Cruel Twist of Fate
by Trahnael
Summary: Yao is a Chinese Emperor's son who has always thought how his life was such a curse, while Ivan is a Russian spy and assassin hired to take people's lives. They meet and become acquainted in a way that would make them have to choose between fulfilling their duties and leaving everything behind just to be able to remove that big tangle in their lives' cruelly twisted fate…
1. Introduction

**Cruel Twist of Fate**

_Pairing: Ivan Braginski / Wang Yao (Russia/China)_

_Summary:_

_Yao is a Chinese Emperor's son who has always thought how his life was such a curse, while Ivan is a Russian spy and assassin hired to take people's lives. They meet and become acquainted in a way that would make them have to choose between fulfilling their duties and leaving everything behind just to be able to remove that big tangle in their lives' cruelly twisted fate…_

_(Some supporting characters' names and settings invented)_

Introduction.

Ivan thought how perfect the weather, and everything else, was for today, as he stared at the gray autumn sky above him, as he glanced at the red and yellow and brown and orange and yellow-green plants and trees around him, as closed his eyes for a second and breathed in that cold afternoon air, and as he stared at the unfortunate man below him who was holding on to the rocky cliff Ivan was standing on, not letting go despite his wounded hands that Ivan has been stepping on for minutes now, or despite knowing that there was a bomb tied around his torso and he couldn't remove it and Ivan could push its detonator anytime.

The sight of his pitiful target made Ivan grin. This man was his twelfth target this month and he was just so amazed how fast the money in his bank account increased more and more every time he was finished with a man he was hired to kill. This was his career as of the moment, and he would not complain even just a bit, for the very reason that he really liked this job. He really liked killing this sort of people— the corrupt ones, and he never argued with his clients because, so far, all of his clients had the same way of thinking as he does especially about other people. _One less corrupt person in this world,_ Ivan thought as he stepped harder on the other man's hand, just like when trying to kill an irritating cockroach. Afterwards, he eventually kicked off the limp hands from the rocks and he watched the man fall, fall for so long in that very, very high cliff near the Trans-Siberian Railway and he pushed the detonator just seconds before the man's landing on the rocky ground. Ivan thought that the man should thank him for not letting him reach the ground and instead instantly blowing him to pieces without him feeling it. Oh well, whatever happened to him, he was dead anyway. And Ivan just used that explosive so no one would be getting any evidence. There wouldn't be a whole body, and the pieces would be eaten by wild animals, and even if someone would find some debris of the explosive, they'd simply think it was used for illegal hunting or whatnot since it did happen all the time everywhere and in this place too.

Ivan stared below him for a few seconds before putting the small detonator in his coat's pocket and waving a hand as a last goodbye. He turned around and started walking back to his car at the bottom of this mountain…

It has already been a week. Ivan was now standing in the center of a private office of his next client's manor, surrounded by big gunned men with tattoos and leather jackets and shaved heads and mouths with lit cigarettes. _Gangsters._ Ivan shrugged inwardly and just flashed a cheerful smile at every person with him in the room, including the man sitting on a high-back chair behind the office desk in front of him, the one who was supposed to be his client. The man smiled back as he started, "You probably know already the reason why you're here."

"Da, of course," replied Ivan, the smile not leaving his face. "Lay it on me."

The client chuckled humorlessly before holding his hands together on the desk. He explained, "I doubt you know of this place, but there is a small kingdom in China called the Dy Kingdom near the Altay Mountains. The emperor there is called Wang Yun, and he is known to have many enemies because of his family's properties all around the world. Too bad for him, one of those 'properties' he was trying to own is mine."

Hearing this made Ivan's smile turn into a grin. He thought that this one might be fun. "You want me to kill an emperor?"

"No," said the client, to Ivan's displeasure. But the client added, "He's trying to take one of my properties. So I'll take one of his— his most precious one."

"Oh," Ivan muttered plainly. "And this property is? Do I get to kill someone?"

"Of course! That's what you're hired for!" answered the client with an almost inaudible chuckle. "This property I'm talking about, Mr. Braginski, is his one and only son and heir to his throne."

"I'm going to kill this emperor's son for what reason again?" Ivan suddenly asked. Actually he was a bit lost of this client's purpose. It wasn't quite clear.

"Payback, Braginski! Just a bit of payback. Don't worry. I'll let you enjoy and do your stuff as long as you get the job done. Of course, if not, then it's goodbye to you. Deal?"

"Oh," Ivan chuckled. "Name your price."

...

Yao held tightly on the parapet of his bedroom's balcony while he looked at the setting sun, while he pursed his lips, and while he thought through another problem he was facing and how he could get out of it. This problem has been bugging him for the entire day now, and he felt so helpless and so cornered and so strangled at his position at the moment and he kept on asking himself why in the world his life was always being targeted by people who hated his father. He was not at fault of anything, not even of being born an emperor's son. So why was he the one in danger for his father's matters? And all the time at that!

He sighed. _These kinds of things happen all the time anyway so what the heck!? _Yao entered his room as the darkness finally engulfed the last of the sun's light, and when he opened the door to the hallway, he was surprised, in a nice way, to see his older half-brother Kiku standing there about to knock.

"Kiku?" Yao muttered as he gave way and gestured for his brother to enter. "What are you doing here? Come in."

"Thank you," Kiku replied as he did what he was told. Once they were both inside and Yao has sat down, he also sat on a couch near the balcony door, the one beside the couch Yao was sitting on.

"So what are you doing here?" Yao asked again. "It's unusual for you to visit me here in my room."

"It is, isn't it?" was Kiku's answer. "I'm sorry if you feel like I'm neglecting you."

"Oh no! No," Yao panicked. Sometimes, he thought this pessimism of his brother was just too much, Kiku was torturing himself. Of course that wasn't how Yao felt. He was actually pretty happy his older brother was still able to show him that he still existed as a person and not as the emperor's dummy even though the former was really busy with different matters about the kingdom. Couldn't Kiku see that Yao was smiling at the moment? Or does he not realize that that smile was because of him? "Kiku, 'neglect' is the opposite of how you've treated me all this time."

"Really?" Kiku sighed. "But the fact that… No, I won't talk about what happened this morning. Instead, I just want to know if you're all right."

"Yes, I'm fine" Yao replied, his smile slowly fading away. "But I'm still asking myself, Kiku. Why am I being targeted by my father's haters?"

Kiku shook his head slowly, as if saying, _oh dear, oh dear._ Afterwards, he said aloud, "You have to understand, Yao. This situation we're in right now is somewhat like… a game. Everyone's a player and each one has their own roles. Your father is everyone's target; everyone has different reasons why. In this game, it's all about saving what's yours and taking those of your enemies, and the enemies that lost something will try to take one from the person who took something from them. And the emperor has taken a lot from so many people… And those people know that you are his most important possession, making you their number one target… And that is why I'm here. I'm here to keep you safe, Yao."

"Kiku, you don't have to keep me safe," Yao said, his eyes now looked like they were pleading, and he had to wonder because he did not know why he was pleading in the first place. Probably it was because Kiku was very affected of these things and he wanted Kiku to stop being very affected. "I can protect myself just fine. And if I die, then I die and my father loses his most prized possession."

"Stop that! You can't think like that, Yao!"

"I already am," said Yao. "There's nothing good in my life. I envy you Kiku, because you have a different father and your father isn't a dangerous one and he's so kind and he even likes me even though I'm his wife's son with a different man."

"Yao, stop it—"

"He's so unlike the emperor who hates you and made you my servant and has so many enemies who want to kill me."

Kiku was speechless. For a moment or two, he just stared at his younger brother with his eyes wide and his lips a bit parted. Yao knew, as he saw that reaction, that Kiku knew and could not deny that he was right and Kiku would not be able to put up something against that. _This isn't being pessimistic,_ Yao thought as he stared back. _I'm being real, Kiku._ "We have to accept the fact that I'm going to get killed sooner or later."

"No." Kiku shook his head, determined of something this time. "I'm going to bust you out of this wretched life. You'll see."

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Yao has already expected this day to be as troublesome as the other days. And as expected, it was.

Because for the first time in this life, the emperor was actually not too busy to talk to his son. Yao was pretty shocked, honestly. He never thought this day would come— not that he was expecting or anything.

Yao was studying more of the Russian language— he was required to learn about it, after all— when he heard a knock on his study's door and he asked whoever it was to just come in. Shocking enough, it was not a guard, nor a tutor, nor an adviser, nor a servant, nor Kiku. It was his father.

Yao abruptly stood up the moment he saw the emperor's face. He quickly bowed as his father approached him, and rose, and asked, "Father, what are you doing here?"

Emperor Yun smiled. "Is it bad to visit my son once in a while?"

_Once in a while. _Yao almost rolled his eyes— almost— but of course he did not because that would mean showing disrespect to the kingdom's ruler. He was honestly irritated though, because, has Yun ever visited him even once anyway? No. So how could he say 'once in a while'!? Now his mood was ruined. And probably he wouldn't be able to be very respectful any longer, not if this would go on further. "Father, you never did."

Yao sat down and continued his reading. Yun's smile fell slowly as he started to falter but he decided he wanted to talk to his son no matter what, just this once, so he sat down on a chair opposite Yao and leaned a bit forward on the table.

"Yao, I'm sorry."

Yao's chin raised a bit, his voice was cold, and his eyes were angry when he asked, "About what?" ever so bitterly.

"About what?" Yun repeated. "About..."

"See? You do not even know. That's because you're never around, are you, Father?"

Yun's eyes lowered in sadness and guilt of what Yao spoke of. He wanted to tell he always wanted to be around Yao, and that he was just too busy to do so but he really did want to spend time with him, but he knew his son would not consider the thought anyway— because no matter what, there was still the truth. And the truth was that Yun was always away and Yao was becoming more and more bitter each day because of his absence and the problems this life kept on bringing him. So he just shut himself up.

"Father," Yao mumbled as he pierced his eyes even deeper to those of his father's which looked at him the moment he spoke again. "Do you even know what troubles I face every day?"

"Of course I do!" Yun stood up, banging the table in the process. "I know all of it and I'm sorry!"

"You're just sorry because you have no heir when I die because you can't have another child anymore!" Yao stood up as well. "You do not really care for me!"

"You don't know that, Yao!" the emperor said angrily. He was angry, not at his son, but at the things both of them were saying. Each word hurt in a way or another.

It hurt, and the hurt was evident to both of them now, especially when Yao smiled resentfully. "Of course I do," said he this time, calmer now than seconds ago. "Father, if you care for me, then you should've thought first the consequences of your doings before claiming lands of other people."

Yao took his book and walked out, not waiting for a response, not showing respect to the emperor anymore, even. He just walked out and ran and did not look back.

He went to the place only he and Kiku knew that was the secret passageway to the village— the one he'd always use whenever trying to go away. It was already sunset and it would be dark soon, but he cared less. It was always more fun during the evening, anyway.

So Yao went to the village, just like he'd always do secretly. Villagers everywhere greeted him as he passed by which was already normal by now. He passed the market and the residential areas before reaching the meadow in the eastern outskirts of the kingdom. It was the most peaceful place that he knew, and it has always been the place where he'd run whenever trying to escape.

He never saw another person here aside Kiku, but this time, when Yao approached the tree where he always rested by, he saw that there was another man there, probably watching the sun set. Yao hid behind another tree and peeked to see and watch the tall man, and tried to see more clearly the man's heavy-cloud-gray hair, his knee-length coat and scarf and obvious Russian features.

_A tourist,_ Yao thought. He was never at ease with tourists. There has always been this distrust for them since there would always be the possibility that strangers might actually be hit men hired to kill him.

The stranger must have sensed someone was watching him; he turned around to check if someone was behind him; thankfully, Yao was able to hide before being caught. He faced the trunk of the tree for a few seconds before peeking again towards the same direction. He was alarmed when the man was not there anymore.

"_Allo,_" whispered a low and quiet voice from behind to Yao's ear. It was so low and soft it sounded dangerous— like a lion growling at a prey before devouring it. Yao could have gasped or something if he were not able to cover his mouth with his hands. He felt hot breath touch and tickle his neck, sending waves through his spine and all over his body. It was the stranger, he knew. He turned around, finally seeing the Russian's face more clearly.

"I... uhm... uh..." Yao stuttered as he turned around and pressed his back against the tree and as he hid his reddish face, out of panic, with his sleeve. "_Allo,_" he replied in the same dialect the stranger used: Russian. He's been studying the language for a while now after all, so he knew a little about it.

After a while, Yao realized that the Russian actually flinched when he turned around. He wondered what that reaction was about. "You're a tourist?" The conversation went on in Russian.

"Da," replied the stranger, eyeing him like a predator and smiling as if he were the Grim Reaper victorious of taking yet another soul. Yao was scared and he decided he was already too scared to look the tall, the very tall, man straight in the eye. "And you are the emperor's son."

"Yes," replied Yao. He regretted not even trying to hide it, but it wasn't like his face was no give-away. "Yao."

"Ivan," said the Russian, his scary grin not leaving his face. "It's amazing to know that the royals here actually know how to speak Russian."

"Yes," Yao answered again. "I'm required to because Russia is very near China." And not really conscious of what he was doing, he even pressed himself against the tree more. _Idiot! He'll know you're afraid of him, Yao!_

The man who introduced himself as Ivan finally removed that stupid grin and replaced it with a smile that was more friendly-looking. Yao almost sighed in relief as he felt himself relax a bit.

"Oh, so you were afraid of me," Ivan said, catching Yao off-guard who panicked again as he insisted it was not like that.

"Oh, but it is, isn't it?" Ivan asked, stepping backwards and bowing a little. "I am sorry, your Highness."

"Wait, don't call me that. 'Yao' is fine. I let everyone call me that."

"Do they obey?"

Yao paused. He was asking himself why he was talking to a stranger when in fact it could be the most dangerous thing he could do. He was asking himself why this Ivan person eyed him as if he were a prey but later on smiled at him as if trying to be friendlier. He was asking himself why he felt something else other than fear upon seeing this tall man and why he felt like his face was burning when in fact it shouldn't be. And he was asking himself why, why was he faltering right now? "No."

"Hm..." Ivan nodded. "Don't worry, I will then. Yao."

Now Ivan sounded like a purring tiger. The energy he emitted felt so intense that Yao felt he would break down any second. He knew for a fact that what he was doing was dangerous but Ivan was just too... enticing. He decided he won't break down, and he decided he wanted to know Ivan better. "Thank you. Ivan." Because that hair, those eyes, those lips, and that voice— they were all new to Yao and Yao wanted to learn.

After that, everything suddenly became so dark. The orange sun a while ago now hid behind the mountains at the west, and stars and the crescent moon took over as the evening did. For minutes, Yao and Ivan just stayed in that position, eyeing each other intently and studying each other's features, until Ivan broke their locked gazes and said that the darkness was never safe and that Yao would be better off in the palace at this time of the night, and onwards. He also explained that he just arrived and that he has not rented a place to stay yet so he asked to take his leave. Yao just nodded and said goodbye, and watched as the Russian go, and waited until Kiku found him there. This time, Yao went with Kiku without a fight.

Kiku sighed the moment they entered the car. "What happened now?" he asked.

Yao replied with a smile at first that faded as he spoke and as he figured out and realized what his brother was talking about. "You mean why I'm not inside the palace?"

"Yes," Kiku replied.

Yao leaned back on his seat as the car drove back to where they should be before opening a window to let the cold breeze in. Somehow, even though the presence of someone new struck him and almost made him forget, he knew he wouldn't be able to simply erase from his mind what happened earlier this afternoon. And how he wished he could just have amnesia and turn his back on this life and just spend the rest of eternity with someone special. "Father tried to talk to me so I ran away."

"You what!?" Kiku shot a surprised glance at Yao. "Why!?"

"You know why, Kiku," answered Yao. "He's trying to be kind to me but we both know he's not kind at all and we know his wrong doings and I have so many valid reasons to hate him so why should I bother?"

"Because he's your father, Yao," Kiku said, his brows meeting above the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Not only that, he's also—"

"The emperor?" Yao interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "I do not care whoever he is. All the more I have the reason to be angry because he's supposed to be the leader of our people. He's supposed to be a good example!"

"He is!"

"Oh, is he, Kiku? If he were a good person, then there shouldn't be anyone trying to kill me because of their hatred of him!"

For a second, Kiku just stared, shocked and wide-eyed and actually out of words because he knew Yao was right. After that second, he leaned against the back of the car seat as well and just sighed and just let the silence fill in for the two of them. That silence was only broken when Yao spoke again.

"I met someone today," he said out of the blue. His eyes were directed somewhere far away, somewhere past even the faraway views seen where their car passed. He was suddenly calm and out-of-this-world-like.

"What? You met someone?" Kiku asked. "Who?"

"He's Russian, Kiku. He's new here and I think I want to get to know him better."

That surprised the elder. "Yao, don't you ever learn?"

"I know the risks, Kiku. Getting to know him doesn't mean trusting him. Besides, anybody who's anybody could be a killer anyway so where's the difference? It's not like there aren't guards everywhere."

"And that is why you think it's okay to run away?"

"I know where to go and not to go, Kiku."

"For a twenty-year-old, you're being childish, Yao."

The angry scowl minutes ago was now replaced with a smile that confused Kiku. Yao was smiling, and Kiku had to guess it was because of this Russian person.

"Kiku, please let me get to know him better."

Kiku sighed. Now, his brother was starting to act even more childish to make him agree. He had to wonder why that always worked. "Fine, but under one condition."

"Yes. Anything."

"Security will be more strict. Up for that?"

Yao exhaled. "Like it isn't already."

...

It was probably an hour already after Ivan has actually met his target. He thought it was strange, he did not actually think it could be that easy to find the prince, and he did not think that the prince would roam around the kingdom alone. No, perhaps there were hidden guards somewhere, Ivan mused. Because he's heard that many hit men have actually been after him for years now, and yet look at him, beautiful and innocent and care-free and... just perfect. There was not a single scratch on his exposed skin, and Ivan was pretty sure that there weren't any under those clothes he wore either. For a second, Ivan thought Yao was actually someone too pure to be his victim. He thought that Yao could be the exact opposite of all the bad things about those people he's killed along the years altogether. He thought that Yao wasn't supposed to be the one in trouble for the trouble his father should be paying. For a second, Ivan thought it was unfair, and for the first time, he thought he wouldn't be agreeing to his client's will.

But his opinions did not matter, insisted his other side. This was his task, and he was paid to finish this, and this was nothing but just another work he was trying to be done with, and if ever he wouldn't kill Yao, it would be him who'll be done for, not that he was afraid or anything. Everyone else was supposed to be the ones afraid of him, whether or not they knew who he was. He knew even his clients did not really have the courage to mess with him, but just in case, he knew it would just mean trouble. Because if something goes wrong, then that would mean losing clients and killing without pay. And Ivan did not like that.

So to quit arguing with himself, the Russian decided to go to a western-looking bar just opposite the street from where his new apartment was. The lights were dim when he entered, but he thought they were just right and they blended well with the claret walls and grand furniture.

Ivan sat down a bar stool by the counter and ordered a bottle of vodka from the bartender who attended to it immediately. The bartender returned with his order and a shot glass, smiling at him and greeted him in Chinese except for the last two words, "Are you new here, _monsieur étrangère_?"

Ivan looked up after filling his shot glass with the liquor and nodded. "Are you the owner of this bar, _mister Francuz_?"

"_Oui_," answered the other. "I'm Francis Bonnefoy, _monsieur_. Would it be okay to know your name as well?"

"Ivan Braginski," introduced the Russian before he drank his first shot. He knew that being too secretive would be suspicious so he's always let himself have casual-talks with different people now and then. After all, he would know if it's not casual-talk anymore.

"Ah, Ivan, is it? I hope you're open enough for an advice from me," said Francis with a wink. Ivan only smiled brightly.

"About what?" he asked, drinking another shot of vodka right after.

"Well my friend, you may have noticed that everyone's eyes are on you, no?"

Yes, he did notice that. From the moment Ivan has entered, he's felt cold glances directed towards him that has not removed themselves until now. He guessed it was because he was a stranger. Or probably because he was so intimidating. Ivan nodded.

"Ivan, it's not like tourists are not welcome here but... no one here trusts strangers."

"Why not?" Ivan asked, honestly intrigued and curious. He was thinking this 'casual talk' might become helpful.

"Perhaps you've heard of the many attempted assassinations done to the prince?"

"Oh," Ivan replied. "I've actually heard from many people and read from news articles."

"So you could probably guess the rest of the explanation for those glares thrown at you?"

Ivan gave another nod. "But why is it that I saw the prince alone and unaccommodated a while ago?"

"Oh that." Francis mumbled. "He was probably in the middle of running away from the palace again."

"He runs away? Why?"

"Um... Based from what I know, I believe he hates his father."

"The emperor?"

"Exactly. It's probably self-explanatory why, don't you think?"

Ivan nodded again. Somehow, he could not control a sudden angry feeling inside him for this thought, as he was yet again reminded of his argument with himself a while ago and of the reason why he was here in the first place. Ivan really thought it was unfair.

"How do you know he hates his father?" he asked.

Francis leaned closer until their faces were only inches apart as he answered softly, "Yao visits often. Would you believe me if I told you that I'm a close friend of his?"

"You are, huh?" Ivan asked; he was half-way convinced. After all, anything was possible, for even he was actually someone other people would not expect he was. Yet in this kingdom, he was everyone's suspect even though nothing was even happening yet. "The people here... they like him, don't they?"

"Love him, you mean," Francis corrected. "Everyone knows he's much better and much kinder than his father and his other ancestors have ever been."

Ivan had more shots of vodka as his conversation with the Frenchman named Francis grew deeper as time passed by. The alcohol almost did not affect him.

By the time Ivan thought he was done for the day, he's already learned just from Francis the true nature of the prince— which confirmed his absolutely right first impression— and the strict security all around the kingdom to ensure his protection without strangling him, which, Ivan had thought was pretty effective _so far_. A part of him did not want to push through this anymore and just let Yao be; he was too young and harmless. But the other part of him said he was being unreasonable and he should just stick with his plan, which by the way, has become a bit easier now, in his opinion: meeting the prince and gaining his trust before easily killing him. He knew that only the tight security everywhere would be the only difficult thing because, as Francis had said it, nobody knows who really is who among the people in this kingdom.

Ivan paid for his drink and went back to his apartment when he finally felt the exhaustion of his travelling kicking in. He entered and changed his clothes and sat on his bed and opened his laptop to check on his information about Yao before sleeping. Minutes passed before Ivan realized he was only looking at Yao's picture the whole time.

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

"_Yes, hello?"_

"_It's me. Have you met the man I sent for?"_

"_Um... You mean the Russian?"_

"_Oh, so you have met."_

"_Well he is the newest guy in town. And the moment I saw him, I was immediately willing to bet my life you're behind his arrival."_

"_Yeah. Keep your eyes on him, will you? He's pretty dangerous."_

"_I know that. I am pretty well-informed of who Ivan Braginski is, you know."_

"_Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Anyway, how are you doing?"_

"_What I'm doing is so much fun! Being a 'double agent,' I mean."_

"_You're enjoying as the prince's friend and guard, huh? That's fine, as long as I have your loyalty."_

"_Of course... And that is as long as you have your payment for my service."_

"_Yes, of course... I'll be sending someone tomorrow to give you your... reward. So bye for now."_

"_Yeah, talk to you soon."_

...

It has been three days since his arrival. Ivan was simply hanging out in Francis' bar early in the morning, having a simple chat with the said Frenchman while having a few shots of vodka; Francis having a few glasses of wine. The Russian was not really sure of how to deal with the French; there was a hostile atmosphere around him but at the same time a friendly one. If Ivan's guess was right, then Francis could actually be someone... something else— other than a bar owner and a friend to the prince.

"So..." Their conversation continued on after Francis took a sip of his wine and put his glass on the counter. "... _Monsieur_ Ivan, have you heard?"

"Heard what?" Ivan asked as he glanced at the man beside him.

"The prince will actually be roaming around today."

"Didn't you say he's always in the village?"

"Well the thing is that he's actually arriving with his strict brother this time."

Ivan paused to give it a thought. _Strict village, strict guards, strict brother..._ He wondered if these 'strict' things could actually put themselves up against him and give this task a thrill. He wondered if this thing he'd be doing would be easy, and if not, he wondered what it would be which will make it a bit challenging. Would it be the protective people surrounding Yao, or would it be Yao himself? He did not know because this was his first time to encounter all these, but whichever the answer was, Ivan knew the sooner he finishes this, the better.

"Ivan, do you know how amazing Prince Yao's security is?" Francis asked when Ivan did not speak. "He actually has secret protectors everywhere. He does not know about all of them but... they exist."

"And how do you know about this?" Ivan asked, unconvinced and slightly bemused.

"Come on, Ivan. People get drunk in this place! How else could I know about these things if not by hearing them from those concerned?"

Ivan chuckled. He thought that that could actually be a believable excuse but a part of him insisted that it was not that simple. Probably he's one of Yao's protectors himself, Ivan considered. But if he really were a protector of Yao, he wouldn't be babbling about it like this. After all, it was not like Francis was drunk enough to spill important information or anything.

"Why are you telling all these to me?" Ivan asked. "Just as you said, I could not be trusted."

"And you agree with that?" Francis asked back before giving another wink for probably the hundredth time since Ivan has first met him. Ivan could not understand yet what those winks meant.

"By the way, who's helping you man this bar?"

"Oh!" Francis snapped his fingers. "Yeah, uh... my two best friends help me. They're just away for the week. They'll be back tomorrow."

"I see."

It was a fine day for the autumn season. Ivan thought it would really be a waste to waste it drinking with the Frenchman all day so he decided to make use of his time wisely. Yao would be visiting the village today, and his visit would actually by licit this time, so the Russian knew observing in plain sight would be the most convenient way to start his step-by-step assassination process.

The sun was pretty high already when Ivan reached the shopping district. It was warm but the air was cool, but Ivan thought his clothes were still not very appropriate for this place. That was a good-enough reason to be in the shopping district, he mused.

The Russian was walking around when the atmosphere suddenly changed. He turned to the far corner of the block and saw Yao there, greeting and being greeted by the different people, smiling and laughing and his eyes dazzling with happiness, observing and mingling and having fun while doing so, talking to almost everyone until his eyes met Ivan's from afar, his whole body paused for a moment, and they exchanged smiles for a second that felt like the longest one ever existed. That moment lasted until Ivan turned to the person accompanying the prince. To his imperceptible surprise, he knew him.

It was the man named Kiku Honda, a man known for his legendary skills with swords and guns. Everyone in the underworld was supposed to know and be wary of this man, because it is known that he was never to be trifled with. Even Ivan considered him dangerous even though that danger was almost never obvious behind his kind and modest nature. And if Kiku was Yao's brother, Ivan knew he should be more careful.

"Mr. Ivan?" Ivan snapped out of his deep thoughts when he heard his name being called. When he did, Yao was already in front of him, smiling cheerfully, and Ivan guessed that it was him who called.

Ivan gave a slight bow. "Good day, your Highness."

"Mr. Ivan, I thought I asked you not to call me that," Yao scowled slightly. "And I thought you said you won't."

Ivan could not help but smile a bit. Yao was young and innocent and beautiful and naïve and perfect. _And perfect..._ _and..._ _it's always fun to destroy perfection. _Ivan tried to convince himself that way that killing Yao would... not ruin his principles.

"I'm sorry but I prefer to call you as such," he spoke with intense insistence that Yao flinched and seemed like he just forced himself to just go along with it. "Why are you out here, by the way?"

"Kiku said he'll let me go out once in a while as long as he's with me," Yao explained anxiously. "I'm actually here because... I wanted to talk to you."

"Me?" Ivan asked. He felt his usual grin slowly forming on his face, the one that scared people all the time, so he immediately masked it with a friendly smile. He could not really hide this grin entirely because Yao was falling to his traps even though he has not really set any yet. He told himself his task would be easier than expected if this goes on. "Why me?"

Yao shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Can we take a walk?"

Ivan nodded.

That moment, Ivan sensed a certain pair of eyes on him, eyes that did not belong to Kiku nor to any of the villagers. He noted he'd have to look for whoever that person was after this.

But for now, Ivan had to grant Yao's request. He knew that whatever he'd be finding out, he will surely be able to use the information sometime in the future.

He and Yao strolled and headed to a less crowded place, specifically, the outskirts where they've first met. It was only a few minutes' walk to get there, after all. They engaged in a casual conversation and Yao would glance behind them from time to time to acknowledge Kiku's and his guards' presence.

"Ivan, how do you like the kingdom so far?" Yao asked.

"Well," Ivan answered, "Everyone keeps on glaring at me."

"Oh, I'm... I apologize."

"No, it's fine."

Yao replied with a smile, a nervous smile that told Ivan that the prince was a bit afraid of him, the silence took over, and it was only disturbed when the cool breeze blew and the bamboos bowing above them danced and rustled and their shadows created wonderful patterns on the ground.

After a few minutes, Ivan thought that this walk was becoming a bit fruitless. If the silence would go on, it'd be a perfect waste of time.

"You seem to be attached to this place," he muttered, referring to the eastern outskirts and the grassland in sight. Ivan did not really know if the topic would help him or not but he knew it was better than total silence.

"Actually, I am," was Yao's reply. "Kiku and I have always spent our times here, especially when I was still a kid. Back then, we'll go here to play with each other and observe if ever pandas were around. Now, I'd only go here to kill time or... if I can't go anywhere else when I try to run away."

Ivan chuckled. "And that happens often, am I right?"

"Um... yes," Yao smiled. "It pisses Kiku off."

"And you like it that way?" Ivan asked. He was really hoping this would get him somewhere.

Yao replied, "Let's just say that... I don't want the security too tight around me."

"But you can't blame them. Everybody is possible to target you," Ivan said. What Yao said back actually shocked him a bit.

"It's the same as saying no one is... but yes, I think you're right and... and I think I'm the only one who doesn't really care."

They both stopped in their tracks and just stared at each other. Ivan was confused of why Yao was like this, smiling and uncaring of whatever danger was near. He was becoming more interested of the prince, and he knew holding an interest on him would not make anything better. He had to do something.

"Your Highness," he said as he looked at his wristwatch. "I am sorry but I must go."

"What?" the smile on Yao's face fell as the disappointment surfaced. "But I was... well... w-why?"

"I'm sorry, your Highness. I'm scheduled to meet someone in a few minutes. It's somewhat important," was Ivan's false excuse. It was the best he could think of at the moment so he decided to just go along with it. "He's my friend and... he's one of the reasons why I went here in the first place."

"Oh." Yao lowered his head in obvious frustration. "I see, well... could we meet again tomorrow?"

Ivan smiled. _What could this be?_ "Here, my prince?"

"Y-Yes," Yao answered; Ivan noticed he was still nervous. "Would you be available by sunset?"

"I would be."

...

So Ivan left Yao. He noted to himself his promise to the prince about meeting him tomorrow, and he considered he should use that in his plans... He'd have to think about what to do.

He put that aside for now, remembering that someone was staring at him a while ago. He knew that whoever it was, that person was not someone average and that he probably knew the guy. Yes, that meant he only had to look out for people he knew... But where would he start looking?

He decided he should start looking for that person where he felt his presence: in the shopping district.

He went back to the place where he saw Yao and started to roam around aimlessly while thinking of how to find this person. If he knew this guy, which he was sure he did, then it would be easy. People he knew, after all, were only either from the dark world he belonged in or from his personal life which was very unlikely in this case. And if this person were from the same dark world, then Ivan was pretty knowledgeable of how this guy would act.

He searched for suspicious-looking people, in the alleys, in the corners, in dark places, and of course even in plain sight. It was only a few minutes later when he saw Francis who seemed to be looking for someone too. Ivan watched for a few seconds before deciding to follow the other. He made sure he was not to be seen...

Francis stopped in his tracks when he reached a house that seemed apparently abandoned. Francis took out his phone from his pocket, and Ivan watched from a distance as he did so, and the former was about to make a call when he seemed to have sensed someone by a corner. Ivan followed his gaze. _What do you know?_ And it was an acquaintance of his. It was Matthew Williams, the always-invisible Canadian who he has met years ago as a spy to collaborate with in a certain assassination of a certain someone...

Ivan could think of so many possible reasons why Matthew was here, but he had to keep on watching to know why he was meeting with Francis...

"Mathieu," Ivan heard Francis mumble as the Canadian stepped closer and swiftly gave him a sealed envelope. "So you're the one HE sent."

"It was sudden," was Matthew's reply. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"I was guessing, _mon cher_," Francis answered. "I didn't really think that he'll send you... but that doesn't mean I would want someone else."

The Canadian smiled and that smile stayed on his lips until the Frenchman leaned closer and gave him a kiss.

Ivan could feel himself frowning; he was sure that it was Matthew who he sensed a while ago as well and he was sure, now, that Francis actually had connections with the criminal world.

He watched as Francis and Matthew talked to each other with toned down voices that were too soft for him to hear. When they parted, Ivan immediately went to follow Matthew while reminding himself he'd have to go after Francis later on too. Without letting the Canadian reach a place with another person, he followed him to an alley between two houses and made his move there, bringing out a pistol he's been keeping in his back and pointing it to the other's spine.

"What are you doing here?" he said at the same time, and Matthew froze in an instant.

"Ivan?" Matthew muttered with a shaky voice; he was careful not to move, scared that the Russian might pull the trigger once he did. "Put the gun away... please..."

"I wonder if I should," Ivan said, his voice now cold and dark and scary, as the usual. "Tell me what I want to know first. Turn around. Slowly."

Matthew did what he was told and faced the Russian. It was obvious in his eyes that he meant nothing treacherous towards Ivan but no matter what, Ivan needed an explanation. "Tell me Matthew. Was it HIM who sent you here?"

"Ivan, you have nothing to do with why I'm here so—"

"What is your connection with Francis?"

Matthew froze and for a second, Ivan thought he was no longer breathing. Matthew suddenly became so still that Ivan actually had to wonder why. And probably getting answers from the Canadian would be fun.

"Matthew."

The Canadian gulped. "Please don't shoot me."

"What is that envelope you gave the French?"

"I was simply instructed to give it to him."

"What is inside?"

"I don't know."

"Left in the dark? You are never left in the dark. You are supposed to know everything about what you are doing. So what were you doing?"

"I delivered an envelope. That was all—"

"You were talking about something. I demand to know," Ivan stated insistently. "Tell me nothing and I will shoot you. And I will shoot everyone who finds out about this too."

"Ivan, we're not enemies."

"That is for me to decide. Now what were you talking about?"

"You want an honest answer, _Monsieur_ Ivan?"

Ivan abruptly turned so that he'd see both men at his sides. Francis was at his right and he was smiling casually, but the look in his eyes seemed like warning. Ivan thought it was not worth comparable to his usual eyes yet though.

Without his left hand moving from its pointing position with the gun at Matthew, he quickly reached for another pistol in his coat and pointed it to Francis. "Hmm... Yes, an honest answer, _Gospodin _Francis."

"Then let Mathieu go."

"I insist I won't," Ivan rigidly stated. "Not until I get my answer."

"Well," Francis sighed. "First, yes, it was your client who sent him here. Second, he was here to give me the payment that man owed me. Third, that man owed me payment for my task here. Fourth, Mathieu and I were talking about what we should do to be able to... ease your mission. Now could you please stop pointing those guns at us?"

So Ivan was right all along, about Francis being someone _something else._ He was already guessing so many possible things now about the deeper details for those answers, and he gathered that he would not need to waste effort or weapon to know more so he brought down his guns and hid them in his knee-length coat as he said, "Could we talk in a place more... secluded?"

He saw Francis sigh in relief and flash a faint smile. "_Oui, mon ami. _How about in my bar after closing time?"

Ivan nodded and turned to Matthew. He just realized that Matthew's presence now just became his convenience and that all of these could be of use to him in his mission. "I want to see you there too, _da_?"

Matthew nodded nervously.

The three parted and headed their separate ways. Ivan would meet them again tonight— Francis and Matthew— and he made sure of himself none of the events that happened today would be wasted. They would all be significant in his plans, and they would all affect whatever the outcome would be. They would all affect whether Yao will be killed or not.

Ivan went back to his apartment and lied down his bed to think. He organized his thoughts as he let his body rest. First thing that came to his mind was that he was not able to buy any clothes for today. He thought it was not important. Second was that he would meet Yao tomorrow again, and it seemed that Yao was interested in him and that meant that in gaining his trust, there would be more ways to do so, whether or not Yao's interest in him made it easier. Third was that he could use Matthew, a spy and seldom an assassin, in gaining that trust that he needed from the prince. How he would convince the Canadian, perhaps it would just come to him later on. Fourth, if Francis really were connected with Adnan, then it probably meant Francis would help him with whatever he needed— which was not much, really. Lastly, a question hit him: would he be able to keep himself from being infatuated with Yao in this process? Ivan told himself he should.

...

Yao was about to knock on Kiku's office's door when he heard his brother talking to someone. He pressed an ear against the door to listen, and thinking that what Kiku was saying did not sound confidential, he knocked anyway and entered. He was a bit taken aback to see his brother seated on his high-back chair behind his desk, somewhat engaged in a conversation with a man with ebony hair such as his own and stern light amethyst eyes. Yao has never seen this man in his life before, but it seemed that Kiku was pretty fine with his presence so it meant he was someone trustworthy enough. Yao forced himself to fake a smile without showing his anxiety to the stranger before turning to his brother and asking, "Kiku, who is he?"

"Oh, um..." Kiku stood up and gestured Yao to take a seat. "He's a friend, Yao. A person who helps me all the time."

"Oh." Yao turned to the stranger. "Nice to meet you."

The stranger just nodded; his silence intrigued Yao and made him want to ask his brother many questions. But for now, he decided he won't. "Um... what's your name?" Yao asked.

"'Mongolia,'" Kiku answered in the stranger's stead. "He'll be called as such at all times."

"Mongolia?" Yao wondered. _Isn't that a country's name? Oh well. _"Um... okay."

...

Ivan dozed off and woke up and noticed that it was past midnight already and Francis' bar was finally closing. He fixed himself and went there, just in time to catch the Frenchman and the Canadian kissing for the second time, this time, behind the counter. He almost wanted to laugh, especially when they realized he was watching.

"I-Ivan!?" Francis stuttered as Matthew pushed away and took a seat on a bar stool, his face obviously burning despite the lights being dim. "_Mon Dieu_, you're here."

"I did say I will talk to the two of you," was the Russian's reply that was said with a little bit too much of his usual aura it took over the whole place immediately, making it give off a very hostile atmosphere. "I want to hear every detail, Francis."

"I... I'm not sure if I'm allowed to say—"

Ivan pointed his silenced pistol. "I will talk to Adnan about it. So just spit it out."

So Ivan had learnt at the end of the conversation that Francis was actually a double agent loyal to Sadik Adnan who was tasked to infiltrate the palace, and has already completed this task when he became one of the prince's covert protectors that were distributed all throughout the kingdom to ensure his safety no matter where he went. Ivan finally figured out why Francis talked like that this morning.

"Francis," Ivan mumbled with a low voice. "Do not dare to interrupt with my mission."

"I was asked to help you, Ivan."

"Then you shall help me when I tell you so."

Ivan left it at that and 'asked' Matthew for a private conversation. Feeling like he had no choice, the Canadian nodded anxiously and followed Ivan to the yard behind the bar.

"Matthew."

"Now what?"

_To be continued..._

_*Thank you for reading, and for the constructive criticism by the way. Don't worry, those kinds of things are in my plans. I just have to figure out how to get there.  
_

_By the way, my friend wrote a tie-in to this story entitled, "Pulse" if I'm not mistaken. Just check her profile out if you're curious. You could know this wonderful author here as "Arcane Arcana."  
_

_:D  
_


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: I am deeply sorry for the length of time things have become stagnant around here. Stress from school has worn me out entirely and drained me of my ability to write. I mean seriously, I never stopped trying to continue but I had to do it over and over and over and over again because I just could not get it right. I lost it for a while and I'm very sorry to those who mind. Well at least it's already summer vacation here in the Philippines and I can finally focus... Anyway, let us stop with the ranting and get on with the chapter. I don't know if the length of this chapter could be enough to make it up for the long pause but I do hope the additional interlude I also uploaded could do me justice.

:D

_BTW. Just a few notes for this chapter: First, this chapter is mainly about confusion, so please spare me if something seems weird. Second, please forgive the too many fillers I had to put to keep myself able of narrating the happenings for almost an entire day..._

* * *

Chapter 3.

Ivan looked up the window beside him. The early sunrays of this foggy morning struck his eyes, its damp heat pricking warmth on his pale cheeks. The streets were silent, the wind was strong, everything was pale and he just... liked it this way. He liked this kind of weather— humid and breezy and comfortable— and for all he cared, he'd rather a gray sky like this than a blue one as long as there was a bit of the sun exposed to serve as a witness to all his actions.

The Russian turned his gaze back to his laptop. It showed a picture of Yao, the prince he was hired to kill, picture of an innocent person who was going to pay for his father's debts in due time. Ivan rubbed his chin pensively. If Yao were to die, he thought, it would be in his hands. But the question was: would he kill Yao?

It's true that his only reason in staying alive was to kill; for him it was justice and revenge for everything every wretched soul has done to every helpless person. It's also true that he had agreed with Sadik in this deal, thinking that the agony of a selfish man could be his laugh, and to the Turk, a sweet victory. He simply wanted some thrill, some fun; after all, his days of revenge were already done, for he has already killed his family's killer years ago; he's long attained the justice for his dead loved ones, so now, he had to wonder, he had to ask himself: why was he doing this again?

He knew that even though this man never really did anything horrible to him, Emperor Yun was still a selfish soul who had done many bad things to many people. It just so happened that one of them was Sadik who just so happened to have close ties with the Russian. Ivan then could consider this a favor— a paid favor, he noted— for the Turk... right? And he was here in China to fulfill that. Yes, that must be it. That's all there was to it... But the question, the stupid question he hated so much at the moment, struck him once more. _Would I kill Yao?_ And this time, it was followed with an irritating _why_.

Looking at an apparition of innocence in front of him made it hard to answer. He hated this weak side, his side which knew how to feel, and Yao's picture was giving it reason to surface. Ivan thought he's buried this softness of his long ago. Thought he was already invulnerable to feelings. Thought nothing would trigger his old self anymore yet...

Why was he confused? Why was his heart pounding? Why would his breath quicken every time he saw the prince's face, and why did he not know the answers to all these stupid whys?

There were so many questions in his head, he hated it. It was frustrating; it made him angry. To be reminded of the past by someone innocent in this defiled world was just what he needed least. He could feel his temples throbbing in pain just with the thought of it; he had to hold his head and press just to make it go away. Dammit, why did Yao have to be a vile emperor's son? On top of it all, why did he have to look so kind? Dammit, he hated this... there's just too many questions taking over him; everything had to stop already...

Ivan rushed to the door of his apartment, taking his coat as he went out. It would take a walk for him to be able to stop the urge of destroying all the expensive gadgets he's gathered through the years; going somewhere deserted would be the best option. The Russian hurried for the outside, hurried to a place where he knew he would not see anyone else— not at this point of the day, at the very least. He did not know where that was exactly, or how to get there, but he eventually found his feet dragging him somewhere familiar, probably because it was the only place he knew that was desolated. It was the part of the village where Ivan had met Matthew yesterday here in China. It was a quiet place, quieter than the whole kingdom has been for the entire morning.

On top of a hill nearby, the Russian decided to kill his time only through sitting on the grass and looking up the sky. It was his way of getting peace, especially at times when he'd still be sane enough to know that destroying things and killing people or animals would not help him cool down anyway. It was his way of channeling his thoughts and his self, especially when he needed reassurance that he did not care about the world anymore and nothing was his business any longer aside from the art of death. It was his way of convincing himself that this thing he's doing was all right, and that killing Yao was nothing worth pondering, especially that there was a big possibility that, if death really were a form of art, Yao would become his masterpiece once he's done... True, he could be Ivan's masterpiece...

Ivan sighed. In all honesty, no matter how much he tried, his convincing was not working at all. He decided he needed someone to talk to for his mind to be able to forget this certain trouble. Francis could be a good company, he admitted, but he was just too lazy to get up and go back to the bar just yet. Matthew was all right, too, but he just did not feel like the Canadian was going to appear so suddenly anywhere near so he did not bother. He took out his phone and dialed the first one enlisted in his contacts. Adnan.

He pressed the phone against his ear, hearing the ringing sound while waiting for the other line to pick up. It was a few moments later when the ringing stopped and a man's voice filled Ivan's ear.

"Well this is a miracle. You actually called," was the Turk's greeting that was just too nonchalant, it was irritating. For a moment or two, Ivan actually wanted to change his mind and hang up, but he guessed he had to talk to Sadik anyway. "What is this? Need someone to talk to?"

_To be honest, yes,_ but Ivan being Ivan, he would not admit anything especially to someone like his current client, as he considered it— the need for distraction from time to time— one weakness he cannot get rid of, and he'll never let anyone know such a pathetic thing about him. So he simply said, "I need to ask a question."

"Ask away," replied Sadik.

Ivan let the silence fill in for him for a few seconds as he searched for his lighter and cigarette in his inner pockets. After lighting the stick, he inhaled and breathed out and watched as the smoke dispersed. After a few more silence, he spoke, "If your enemy is the emperor, why do you want to kill his son?"

There was again silence for a brief moment before came a soft, "Payback." Ivan remembered that Sadik had said the same thing in their meeting about two weeks ago and he remembered liking the idea. That was then. Now, the Russian was not sure anymore, not after meeting the prince in person. "That's all, Braginski. I've told you about it already, haven't I?"

Ivan nodded even though he knew Sadik would not see it. Somehow, the feeling that the Turk might have become angry made him feel uneasy— not nervous, not scared, not even definable— just plain uneasy. He realized after a second: he, too, was angry.

"Don't tell me you're backing out," came from the other line.

"No," said Ivan. "I'll kill."

"Alright. Hurry up then."

When Sadik hung up, Ivan stared at his phone before putting it back in his pocket. He realized too late that the phone call did not help him; instead, it made him feel worse, made him feel angry, made him feel the urge to kill, thus, giving him reason to say what he did a while ago. He'll kill, somehow. But the problem was, his problem was, he was so confused who he SHOULD kill.

_Would I kill Yao?_

The question just kept on coming back. And Ivan could feel it eating him alive.

...

It was a few hours later when Ivan decided he had to go back to Francis' bar anyway. Upon reaching the entrance, he saw that the bar was not actually open for public at he moment; curious and wondering, he went to the building's side and twisted the knob of the door he found there, found it unlocked, entered. The bar was silent and still inside, save for the counter where the Russian saw two men arguing with each other, bathing each other with wine and beer and breaking glasses around them which, in Ivan's opinion, will surely anger Francis once he sees it. Ivan wondered about a few things as he stared unnoticed, such as who these two men were, what they were doing here, and why they were fine with wrecking things which were obviously not theirs to wreck. It was when he saw Francis walking down the stairs did he remember being told about the French's two best friends away for the week. And now that they're back, things and plans may change depending on how they might interfere. Ivan was hoping otherwise.

"_Monsieur_ Ivan?" Francis called to him and he turned in response, smiling calmly as even the other two finally stopped to look at him.

"Francis," he said, "you still noticed me first despite _that_." He turned to the two men at the counter who have been staring back. The one on Ivan's left was a man with hair as pale-white as his, eyes too bright and red to be bronze; the other, meanwhile, had dark brown locks and deep summer-green irises and perfectly tanned skin unlike the former's pallid one. His eyes went back to Francis when the latter spoke.

"Oh. You mean Gilbert and Antonio?" the French had said. "That happens all the time. Mind them not, _oui_?"

"'Mind them not'!? You make us sound so insignificant you bastard!" the first man interrupted in a drunken manner.

"Now, now, Gil." The other was trying to calm him down, meanwhile. "You're drunk so we don't know what's gonna come out next from your mouth..."

"Hell if I care! What's this guy doing here anyway!?"

Ivan did not answer when the first man, the man named Gilbert, started asking about his purpose of visiting unannounced. As much as possible, Ivan did not want to care, not while these two additional presences still did not matter. Somehow, though, thinking about these two possibly becoming a hindrance gave reason for his chest to become abnormally heavy. It was so confusing for him not to know why; he could not tell just yet no matter how much he pondered through it during those few seconds he was allowed to, for the man named Antonio started to speak again right then.

"Gil, why don't we clean up? Mr. Braginski might feel too irritated if we don't and that's gonna be bad because he's Francis' guest."

Now that surprised Ivan. The Spaniard somehow knew him, and seeing that the other agreed, Ivan guessed he did, too, and that was somehow strange. But then again, Francis was also from the same underworld as he. It shouldn't be surprising anymore if his friends were, too.

"Ivan, since you're here anyway, is it all right if I speak with you privately upstairs?" Francis asked, snapping him out.

"Not a problem," was Ivan's answer as he stepped forward. "But that is as long as it is not a waste of time."

"It isn't, _mon ami_. I assure you. There's just something I want to show."

Ivan again turned to the two men named Gilbert and Antonio. They were starting to clean the place up, though Ivan could tell it was a half-hearted effort. Shrugging off his impressions, he followed the French upstairs, not even knowing where to start guessing on what this was about. There were too many possibilities he could think of, too many things he might have to mind more than the two men downstairs. There was one thing he was certain of, though: he didn't want this to be about Yao. He was still too confused to talk about the matter. Anything but Yao.

Ivan felt his feet becoming heavier and heavier as he took more and more steps towards wherever Francis was taking him. He could feel a certain kind of intense atmosphere as he walked on, its ferocity becoming worse the closer they were from the next room. He wondered what caused this while he stared at Francis in front of him, and for some reason, Francis eventually stopped in his tracks and stared back. He stopped, too, of course, and asked what was wrong.

"Your eyes melt me," Francis answered with a laugh. "Oh, lighten up, _Monsieur_. What's with the murderous mood? You make me feel as if I'm about to be torn to pieces."

Ivan was taken aback, someway. He was not able to realize beforehand that he was the one causing the hostile aura. _I should have realized_, he thought with a chuckle. "Forgive me. I cannot bear this kind of silence."

"'This kind'?" Francis asked.

"Yes," Ivan replied. "You have to tell me now, Francis, what this is about."

Surprisingly, Francis only shrugged while he opened the door just in front of them. The room beyond that door struck Ivan for some reason, seeing that it was not the same— groomed and styled and fashioned up— as the rest of the building. This room was gray and dull and... very dangerous-looking. And Ivan could only glance curiously at the blond French.

"Here we are, Ivan. I really meant to show this room to you," Francis explained.

"Why?" Ivan asked.

"Shall we come inside so I could tell you?"

The curiosity in Ivan's became pure suspicion, and he was certain he could not bring himself to stop glaring just yet. The French insisted for him to come inside and since there was no problem in that so far, he did, but when he entered and Francis entered and locked the door and blocked the way out, he knew it was probably the wrong decision to agree coming here in the first place.

"Why do you have to lock us in?" he asked.

"So you'll have no choice but to listen," was Francis' answer.

"I could kill you," Ivan muttered as he made an effort to dagger the French with his violet eyes even though he was sure it would not work on this guy.

"Ivan, _mon ami,_ I'm only doing this because I had a guess you wouldn't want to talk about the prince."

"I knew it. So you are forcing me to?" Ivan asked. "Just as I have said, Francis, I could kill you."

"Oh, but you won't." Francis said it in a challenging manner. "Come on, Ivan. There's no point in this. You're going to see him later, after all."

"Why are you so pushy?"

"Because Mathieu is involved."

"I see... So where is he?"

"You're trying to evade the topic, aren't you?"

An exasperated sigh of surrender finally came out of the Russian's lips. Giving up, he let himself turn and resign to a couch just beside him, silently telling Francis through his eyes to just get on with what he had to say or show. The latter slowly pushed his back away from the wooden door; set his feet in front of him one by one until he reached the opposite corner of this gray room where one could see a metal safe-like container covered in plain gray cloth. As Ivan watched Francis, he could feel the silence getting into him, silence that was only kept from breaking loose by the echoes Francis was making as he brushed off the few dust particles and afterwards grabbed the cloth and let it spread all over the floor that was gray itself as well.

"So what is this?" Ivan asked, standing up from the chair and approaching the French. Curious once again, he let his metal-cold fingers caress the top of the safe, until it reached what he had guessed was a lock. He looked at Francis. The latter was smiling at him a bit, as if there was a hint of deviousness Francis was trying to convey. Or maybe that was just Ivan's silly impressions again.

Francis said, "I was hoping this would catch your attention." He started to fumble with the lock Ivan had touched and let go, and started putting in the password combination that would open it. The padlock with digital input clicked after a few seconds, enabling the two of them to finally open it.

Inside were three different kinds of rifles and Ivan felt awestruck to see them. They weren't the ordinary ones, they were obviously special with all their enhanced parts and features.

"I was wondering if these would help you," Francis mumbled. "You see, no one has touched these yet..."

"Are you saying I could use this to frame people up?"

"Well… not exactly. I'm saying you can use that to get away with whatever you are to do."

Ivan felt as if a certain part of his brain sparked because of a certain idea that just popped out of nowhere... and it was all thanks to these improved weapons. He certainly may use these later on.

"So Ivan, about the prince..."

...

Sunset. Ivan waited for the prince in the outskirts, as promised, though he had to admit it was not the only thing he was doing at the moment. Secure in his right ear was a small, wireless communicator, which has been fixed there for more or less an hour now, so that he'll be able to hear Matthew from the other line no matter where the Canadian was. He honestly did not know where the said man was, though he knew he was just around here somewhere, for all he had said earlier was for him to stay somewhere hidden and wait for his signal later on. Right now, Ivan listened to the few words of uncertainty Matthew has been speaking, answering him with assurance that his life was not to be put in danger only through this one simple task. Ivan also mumbled for the communicator a promise that he would not kill Matthew and that he had no reason to worry. After all, the rifle Matthew was holding was one of the rifles Francis had introduced earlier, and tracing their actions was sure to be near impossible with a bit of knowledge Ivan had in the industry. Of course, Ivan did not have only a bit of that, so what more with a ton? Matthew did not have to worry at all.

"But that's not what I'm afraid of, Ivan," said the man from the other line, however.

"Tell me what is, then," Ivan replied softly. He was starting to guess again what was to arrive next; this time with what Matthew was going to say.

"What if I shot the wrong spot?"

He guessed right, and that just made him grin of delight.

"I give you my word, Matthew. I will not kill you, not now that you have agreed to my... 'request'."

"But..." It seemed that the Canadian still wanted to put up an argument about the matter but Ivan realized that the former's voice has somehow faded away into distraction.

"What is it?" Ivan asked.

"I can see the prince's car approaching your position."

"Really?"

Ivan moved his head to both of his sides in almost an unnoticeable manner, for that was already enough for him to see what he needed to check. To his right, he started hearing a soft purr of a car's engine, and later on the Russian finally saw what the Canadian had spoken of. He prepared a lax smile as the car went nearer and nearer and stopped at a distance. That smile, though, somehow fell as he realized that the first person to come out of the car was the prince's brother— Honda Kiku. He had to put up a slight effort to bring the smile back to his face, but seeing Yao's eventually made it easier and less-needing of the said effort.

_One last whisper,_ Ivan thought. "There is no room for mistake."

After that, Ivan smiled even brighter as the prince covered the distance between them.

"Mr. Ivan," Yao greeted. "A pleasant afternoon to you. You should know I'm very happy you did not break your promise of being here."

"It is nothing, Your Highness. As a guest in your kingdom, of course I do not want to disappoint you."

Yao laughed softly. "But isn't 'not disappointing' supposed to be the host's job for every guest, not the other way around?"

"Maybe it is better to be of both?" Ivan shrugged with a smile more truthful than only seconds ago. But just before he could lose concentration due to the relaxing atmosphere the royalty had brought, a voice inside his head reminded him: _This is nothing but a way to lure him into your trap. Do not fall for it._ That reminder had his smile fading away from his face for the second time, and for a second Ivan had to silently swear because of how much he hated this fluctuation. He still tried to let his lips curve up, however— to hide away his intentions at every action.

"Let's stick with that," Yao said brightly, which fortunately snapped Ivan out of his thoughts.

"Well then I hope I will not disappoint you."

"And I hope the same."

The prince turned to the man behind him. Ivan almost forgot that the dangerous brother has been there all the while and being hinted at it was not really a delight at all.

"Kiku?" Yao called.

"What is it?" Said man asked.

"I wish to spend a few moments with Mr. Ivan alone. I hope you wouldn't mind."

The dangerous man sighed at that as if he were dealing with a brat he couldn't handle except if he'd attend to his wishes. It was an automatic 'yes' but he spoke anyway.

"For how long?"

"A few minutes..." Yao mumbled before turning back to the Russian. "Mr. Ivan, how long, in your opinion?"

Ivan smiled. "I leave that to you, Your Highness. I have no appointments tonight, after all."

Yao had turned back to his brother then, beaming a grin so suddenly that Ivan only caught of it for just a split second. "Then it's settled," the prince said. "We'll be walking around for as long as I want."

Together with Ivan, the prince left Kiku speechless because of the sudden unruliness he showed. The prince was obviously delighted with the reaction, and Ivan just could not help but find this... adorable. But he had to remind himself again; he was here to kill Yao and not to be his friend.

"Mr. Ivan?" Yao mumbled as they walked through the ankle-high grass of the meadow.

"What is it, Your Highness?" Ivan asked, looking at the figure of the Chinese prince that was showered upon by the deep orange hue that the sunset has cast upon earth. It was rather a calming sight.

"Won't you even ask me why I wanted to be alone with you?"

The question had taken Ivan aback, though it was not enough to entirely shock him. He asked, "Is there a particular reason?"

"Why, yes," Yao answered, smiling up at him before turning to the mountains' view far ahead. "Aside from my uprising against my father, there is. I'm thinking of the moments when Kiku would remind me that I should not trust anyone, and I remember your words yesterday about everybody being possible of targeting me, and I suppose you weren't exempting yourself. I wanted to risk everything and trust someone else other than my brother. And just as I thought I was already fed up I saw you here in this meadow, here in a place very dear to me. It could have been anyone else, or if the chances were worse, it could have been none at all and I'd probably be... near insanity by now, or already insane, even. I hate my father for bringing me to this kind of dark world and all I've ever wanted was to be rid of it... I wanted to escape, and I still do. There was even a time when I thought that everything would be better if Father would just die."

Ivan found himself coughing in surprise as if a solidified ball of air had blocked its passage. Also, he started hearing a soft, surprised laugh from the other line of the communicator; Matthew was hearing everything clearly. What Yao had said was a shockingly funny statement that made Ivan laugh just after recovering from the choking.

It was rather ironic, in Ivan's opinion. Yao, who had to die sooner or later in the assassin's hands because of people's hatred of his father, felt the same thing for the same person. It was all very confusing for the already-confused part of Ivan, the part that was still human, the part that still had feelings. The conflict inside of him was starting to well up again.

"What's so funny?" The prince suddenly asked just before he himself started to laugh, but only very softly.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, that was not really nice."

"I know," Yao replied with a sudden pout. "Actually, if people would just let me, I'll do what I can to team up with my father's haters and plan an assault against him with them... But the odds are different, unfortunately. In this life, I'm the target."

Ivan could not help but feel a sharp pang of guilt hit him as the words entered his ears. He silently reasoned with himself that he had no right to feel anything, but that humane side of him just would not let his beastly one get away with the heartless intents. This time, he did not bother to smile anymore once his lips fell.

"Your Highness," he mumbled as he stopped walking when he saw a tree.

"What is it?" Yao asked, looking back at him.

"Is it all right if we stay there for a while? That is the tree where I first saw you, da?"

The prince followed the direction of Ivan's sight with his own eyes. "Yes," he answered. "You scared me to death back then... Why did you stare at me like that anyway?"

Ivan felt a weird hot sensation fill his face for a second. He guessed his face had turned red for a moment and since he did not want to show it to the prince, he walked until the royalty was just beside him, for he was sure the latter will not look up just to stare. He thought of an answer for the question thrown at him. He had thought of two reasons, though he did not know which one was real probably because of how confused he has been for the entire day.

One: he was very, very glad then when he had found his target so easily...

Two: he somehow wanted Yao to his own, and that predatory stare was just a sign that the prince was his to prey. Though this 'predatory' instinct was not of his assassin side. It was... something else... something he still could not understand.

He decided he could not tell the prince either of those two reasons. So he said, "I wanted to know your reaction." _Yes, that is another reason, _he pointed out to himself as he realized it.

"That's a silly thing, Mr. Ivan."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness."

"No, I did not mean it like that."

The two have reached the tree and stopped just under it. Ivan watched when the prince laxly sat down the ground and he breathed in and exhaled deeply just as he reasoned out with himself for probably the hundredth time if he really should be doing this. He somehow did not know what to tell himself, in actuality. He could not find a valid reason— aside from the probability of dealing with Adnan and his men, which he did not want to happen— why he should push through, but then he also did not find any reason why not. So he decided to push through.

"Your Highness," he called, preparing Matthew for the signal.

"What is it?"

"What do you think of this sunset?"

A shiny thing from a distance caught Ivan's attention. He thought it was Matthew but a startling statement from the other line came up.

"Ivan, someone else is there. He's going to shoot!"

Ivan instinctively covered the prince with his own body, simultaneously hearing a gunshot echo before hearing another. He heard Yao call his name in a panicked manner, but aside from that, and after that, everything was just black.

_To be continued..._

* * *

_So yeah, off you guys go to the interlude..._


	5. First Interlude

_And here is the interlude I was talking about earlier… This is done in a matter of hours so I hope it is not that bad… The idea was just inside of me and I knew I had to write it down but I'm not sure just yet if I'll be able to put more interludes in the future. The story, of course, will go on but it will depend on certain circumstances whether I'll still go into detail on this part of the story or not… So here you go, please do enjoy!_

_:D_

* * *

Interlude.

A sight of gray and dull buildings flashed before him as the rain poured its heaviest and as the lightning flashed its brightest and as the thunders screamed their loudest. The old coat he wore that was too big for him, the only thing he could remember his father by, was soaking wet, and it was heavy, and all the other clothes on him were just the same. The rain was burning cold against his skin, something to be expected when in Moscow. That skin of his, as young and smooth as it should be for his young age, was as if drained of color and blood, leaving it pale just like everything else that surrounded him. For once, he thought he was already about to die due to this unbearable drop of temperature. He was still ten, and on top of it all, he was homeless, and so were his sisters, and the three of them had to endure many days and nights of sleeping in freezing alleys without anything in their stomachs. To survive, they had to work and do service, and what payment do they get? They'd be lucky to earn a few rubles for a day. And that was not enough to support them in their daily hardships.

Life has become cruel to them since the day their parents were murdered, and he and his older sister did everything they could to protect their properties but lost anyway because even his older sister was still very young herself at the age of thirteen.

_They took everything._

He remembered as he turned to his freezing sisters behind him how he asked himself once why these things were happening to them. He's long learnt that life being unfair was not an excuse; he's long thought that what mattered was how to be on top. But if they were like this, young and poor and uneducated and helpless, was there a way to get there? Would it be better to just give up?

"Irunya," he called his older sister. Irunya was doing her best to keep little Natalia warm but was obviously not very successful. They were all freezing.

"W-What is it, I-Ivan?"

"I will try to work today."

"But Ivan, w-we're exhausted."

"And freezing," Ivan said. "I will work today and I will try to look for warm clothing for us. The two of you would have to look for a dry place where we could stay."

"But how will you find us?"

"I just will. You do not have to go so far. "

Ivan left his two sisters and looked for whatever he could do. He asked storeowners and proprietors of small establishments if he could do anything in exchange for some payments, but most did not even let him come near because he was wet and he was dirty and owners did not want their things to be ruined.

Lucky enough, a few storeowners would pay him to take the trash out to dark and wet and dirty alleys, and after many hours, at least he was able to earn fifty-two rubles.

It was not enough for the three of them, but maybe he could buy a big, thick, and warm coat or blanket with it. No, it won't do. Ivan decided he had to earn some more.

He was walking around, looking out for anything he could work with when someone tapped his shoulder. Ivan abruptly turned around, shocked and suddenly nervous of that warm hand that touched him, and he realized he was under a black umbrella, facing a tall man that had a worried expression on his face. The man seemed wealthy based from his clothes; Ivan was angered right away for the very reason that this kind of people— he thought— every each of them resembled those people that took everything away from them. It was how Ivan saw it.

But somehow, that anger and darkness that had engulfed his heart a long time ago suddenly left and contained itself somewhere when the man asked Ivan, "Dear child, what are you doing under this cold rain?"

Ivan was still and speechless. He watched the man crouch and level with him, and he stood there as the man reached out to touch his cheek. The hand was warm against his frozen skin and all Ivan wanted that moment was for that warmth to just stay. It's been so long since he felt it. Or rather, he has not remembered any moment when he's last felt this warmth.

"What is your name?"

"Ivan."

"Ivan?" the man repeated. "You are obviously cold. Is there anything that I could help you with?"

The little Russian's eyes widened. "Oh sir, please let me work for you in exchange for some coins! I need to earn money for me and my sisters!"

"Work?" The man was obviously taken aback. "Work? Despite this heavy rain? But you're soaking wet already. You'll be sick!"

"Please, sir. My sisters need warmth."

A pained smile was formed on the man's lips as he scanned Ivan with his eyes. "Why don't you tell me where your sisters are?" he asked. "We can talk about work and payments later on. Let's look for them first."

The man walked with Ivan until they reached the alley where he left his sisters. They were still there, which shocked Ivan a bit, making him run to them, leaving the protection against the rain that the umbrella offered. "Irunya, I thought I told you to look for a dry place!"

"Ivan, I'm sorry," was Irunya's reply. She was sitting on the cold ground, and Natalia was beside her and enveloped by her arms. "Natalia is too weak to move. She's sick."

"What?"

Ivan turned to the man who was accompanying him. This man was now just a few meters away from the three, staring worriedly at them all.

"Sir, please help us," Ivan begged. "Please, I assure you we will be able to pay you in time."

"It is why I am here, is it not?" the man asked as he carried Natalia with an arm, the other, holding the umbrella to keep the poor children from getting any more soaked.

This man took the three children to his house and asked his female servants to attend to Natalia and Irunya immediately while he himself to Ivan. The house was so big it could be considered a mansion. But for someone who's become homeless such as Ivan, it was just too big he didn't think it had boundaries anymore...

It was nighttime, and Natalia and Irunya have been groomed and taken care of and given a room where they were now sleeping.

Ivan was given a room of his own, but he still could not sleep so he went to the man in his office instead, knocked, and entered once he was permitted to do so.

The man smiled at him, seeing him finally dressed in fine clothes that were just too warm for Ivan not to accept. Honestly, Ivan did not want to be separated from his father's coat, but it was so wet and ruined and it was almost tattered, he had to let it go. After all, he thought, it might not be respectful to insist keeping such clothes in this grand house.

"What is it, Ivan?" the man asked as he stood up from his chair behind his office desk and as he approached the boy. "Are you having trouble with sleeping?"

Ivan nodded. "Sir, thank you so much, I hope you'll let us work here. Just please wait for Natalia to be better—"

"No, Ivan."

Ivan's eyes shot up. He obviously panicked, and worry and fear were immediately evident in his mauvish eyes. He clearly misunderstood so the rich man immediately continued his statement. "Ivan, I mean... you and your siblings do not have to work for me. I have many servants already."

"But sir, how could we pay your—"

The man crouched yet again. "And could you not call me 'sir,' Ivan? My name is Aleksandr Braginski. You can call me by my first name, or you could call me 'Papa' or 'Otec' if you want to."

"Otec?" Ivan repeated. "Do you mean—?"

"Is it all right for me to adopt you? You and your sisters, I mean."

...

Ivan and his sisters were educated once Aleksandr legally adopted them. They grew up as Braginski's, and Aleksandr was able to change Ivan's opinion about rich people as they did. As Ivan grew up, he realized that there were still kind people around, no matter what their status were. Ivan and his sisters have learnt to love Aleksandr as their real father and life could have been perfect already until incidents repeated themselves...

It was a fair winter day. Irunya was cooking in the kitchen, it was her hobby after all, Natalia was learning fencing with her tutor, and Ivan was killing time in the shooting range back then. He answered his phone immediately when it rang, thinking it was Aleksandr who was calling. And it was him. Ivan pressed the answer button and pressed the phone against his ear.

"Otec?"

"How are you doing, Ivan?" Aleksandr asked.

"Oh, I am doing well, Otec," Ivan replied. "Is there anything you need?"

"No, I..." Ivan heard Aleksandr heave a sigh. This worried him immediately.

"Otec?"

"Ivan, how old are you again?"

_That was weird_, he thought. _Why is Aleksandr asking my age? _"Seventeen, Otec."

"I see." Now he could imagine his father smiling that pained smile again. "I entrust everything to you."

"What?"

"I love you like my own son, Ivan. Goodbye—"

And then there was a gunshot...

Ivan ran out of the compound without even knowing where to go, simply clutching his phone with one hand. _Where is he? Where are they!?_ He could feel the long-stored-away-and-forgotten anger slowly escaping its cage inside him. And so the question rose once again: _Why is this happening to us!?_

His phone rang once again and he abruptly answered it.

"Mr. Ivan," said a low voice on the other line. Ivan replied with a growl of anger and the man on the phone continued. "Don't worry, your father isn't dead. Do you want to save him?"

"Oh see you in hell if you lay a finger on him," was Ivan's reply, calm and refined but cold and dangerous and deadly. "Where are you?"

And so he was given the instructions of where to go. He knew it could be a trap, but he had to see Aleksandr. He had to save him no matter what so he went for it.

...

After it all, Ivan found himself bathing with other people's blood. He's arrived a moment too late, and he was just too angry he wanted to kill them all, so he did. And now, he was inside an old-abandoned warehouse, standing in the middle of so many corpses. He searched for Aleksandr's body and went to him. He held the person who he has known as his father for a long time, the person he loved so much who was now dead and cold and bloody. Ivan could not bear this sight. It was awful. No. It was worse than that. Much worse. It was horror. Ivan knew he was going to go crazy. But actually, he already has. He's killed twelve people out of anger already and they were all scattered on the floor. And he was sure, he will kill more...

Not really being able to do anything else, Ivan set the warehouse on fire, saving nothing but himself and Aleksandr's body and escaping before anyone could see. He went to the nearby forest and gave Aleksandr a proper burial there, seeing that the forest would be the only place it could be done. Ivan cried a river as he swore revenge, and he promised himself it would be the last time he'd cry. He will kill. He will kill the corrupt, to avenge his real parents' death, and Aleksandr's death...

...And his siblings' death too.

Because when he went home, every person was dead and bloody on the floor in different rooms. He was alone. And this time, not even his sisters could be there. No, no more tears. There was only hate. There was only revenge. He'd kill, even those not concerned with him but make other people's lives miserable anyway. He'd kill because he was angry and all he wanted to do was annihilate these kinds of wretched people that prioritised the satisfaction of their greed, even to the extent of taking people's lives. His parents' lives. His sisters' lives. Aleksandr's life.

_They are all going to pay..._

_To be continued..._

* * *

_Yeah, like I said, it's done in a matter of hours. Proofed it but…Oh, I don't know…_

_I hope the interlude is okay… and I will appreciate very much if you'd leave some reviews, criticisms, or advice to help me improve my story…_

_I promise, I won't take too long next time, and those who know about my other stories, I'm also very sorry, I promise they'll be updated soon as well._


	6. Chapter 4

_Hey guys, thank you for the compliments... As promised, I made sure not to take so long so... here. :D_

_It's almost pure convo, though. An important one. Relationship finally starts to build up!_

_Should I put another interlude by the way? Please tell me your opinion... ^_^_

* * *

Chapter 4.

Ivan fully roused to consciousness when he tried to breathe in deeply but realized right after that the action did nothing but torture him with searing pain, as it came to him that doing so only made his ribcage constrict in an excruciating manner. For a moment, there was the idea that it might have already broken, and due to that the Russian's eyes flung open in panic as his efforts to breathe earlier only gave way for gashing coughs to burst out. And that made him suffer even more.

"Mr. Ivan!"

Ivan heard the prince's distressed voice, later on seeing him seated on the bed beside him. The prince had a very, very alarmed expression on his face but was obviously trying to hide it while he hushed the Russian and tried to sooth him through slight touches on certain parts of the latter's torso. Though hurting still, Ivan was immediately amazed that Yao's caress calmed his coughing down. The pain also subsided eventually, which the Russian found himself thankful for.

"Your Highness?" Ivan mumbled as he tried to breathe again, this time not as deeply as a while ago. He looked around. He was in a room with grand-looking incarnadine walls groomed-up with high-class paintings, different kinds of furniture lined up against them. The bed he was on was too soft for a hospital, so he guessed he wasn't confined inside one. But where was he?

Yao exhaled heavily before speaking. "Thank goodness you're finally awake. I was so worried! You almost got yourself killed because of me but please if you could accept my sincerest apologies—"

"Your Highness?"

"—I wouldn't forgive myself if—"

"Your Highness."

"—someone died for—"

"Yao."

Ivan was right thinking that hearing his first name would catch the prince's attention and make him stop. Ivan smiled up to him genuinely as he felt the urge to comfort him arise.

"Your Highness, please do not be guilty," he said. "I did it with my own free will."

_Because I planned for it._

But that urge suddenly vanished and Ivan's smile almost turned into his usual devious grin when the thought entered him; thankfully though, he managed to mask it up with a wider smile. Even though he had to endure a bit of pain, he was very happy that his plan had turned out successful, even happier that the royalty has fallen into his trap. And he was certain he was successful about it because of the obvious remorse Yao had on his face. Ivan still could not quite get his own reason why he wanted to play around, but he was more than satisfied he did it.

There was only one thing he didn't get, though. He remembered hearing Matthew from the communicator say that someone else was there to shoot, so that 'someone else' must have been the one who shot Ivan. But who was it? Or more importantly, who was behind it?

He tried to sit up, only to prove that the pain was even worse than he expected. His smile immediately turned upside-down as he grunted, but at least Yao was there to help relieve him again.

"Oh where was I hit?" he groaned and stopped moving, settling with his sitting position. "And where am I?"

"I hope you don't mind, but I insisted to take you here in the palace," Yao replied, sending a wave of shock to Ivan. It was a rather stupid thing for him to do. Stupid and dangerous. "I honestly did not want to entrust you to just any doctor. Knowing mine is the best in the kingdom, I took you here and asked him to tend to you."

Ivan looked down his torso and found the upper part wrapped in clean, white bandages.

"You were hit a few inches from the heart," Yao continued to mumble as his eyes focused on only Ivan's injured chest. "The impact was a bit too strong so the bullet went through you. I fell lower to the ground when you covered me so I wasn't hit. I panicked because you immediately lost your consciousness, and the blood didn't stop flowing... and... and..."

Ivan could feel mixed emotions inside him. Honestly, he was still confused. But he decided that what he wanted, and what he had to do at the moment, was only to stop the prince from breaking apart due to guilt. It wouldn't do any good, after all.

"Shush..." Ivan hushed as he raised a hand to pat the other's head. "Prince Yao, you did not have to worry. And thank you, by the way."

"Ivan you've been unconscious for three days, and it's because you protected me. How could I not worry?"

_Three days?_

Ivan froze at the idea. He's been unconscious for three days. What would happen now, now that he was already taking too long?

Ivan suddenly remembered and slowly reached for his right ear, careful not to make it obvious that he was checking if his communicator was still there. But it wasn't, all the more causing him to be slightly alarmed. Yao seemed to be unmindful of this though, so thank goodness to that.

"Three days?" he voiced out, earning a nod from the prince.

"Francis and his friend— uhh... Matthew was his name, I believe— they were both very worried when you didn't wake up."

"Francis and Matthew," Ivan mumbled, recalling that the French had told him once he was acquainted with the royalty. "How did they know?"

"Your phone rang just seconds after you got hit. It was Mr. Matthew who was calling then, and I answered to tell what happened. Sorry I touched your phone."

"That is all right," Ivan said with a slight shake of his head.

"Kiku also rushed to us when he heard the gunshot," Yao continued. "And Mr. Matthew arrived just in time to help... Speakng of which, could I leave you for a moment? I need to let them now you're awake."

Ivan nodded, so the prince left after promising not to take long.

He stared at the door for a few moments while he tried to process out and organize the things Yao had said, and those he had thought of.

First, the original plan was to fake an assassination with Ivan rescuing the prince so to gain his full trust. It had still worked despite the fact that it was not Matthew who took the shot. But he did hear a second gunshot before he blacked out, so he guessed that was Matthew then who aimed at the first shooter instead.

Second, Yao was able to take hold of his phone while he was in his own limbo. What if someone called during those three days he was out, and Yao had answered it? Ivan tried to reason with himself. If Yao had already found out why Ivan was here in the first place, then he wouldn't be acting very worried.

Third, he was losing his communicator. Who had it?

Fourth, he was taking too long. If he didn't finish this soon, Sadik might already make another move. Knowing the Turk, if he'd do so, it would not be good for him. That's what worried him the most.

If only that bastard sniper didn't interfere.

Ivan did not know how long it took, but it must have only taken a few minutes before the prince came back. Said man seemed relieved based on how his lips curved upwards.

"Your Highness?"

"Francis was funny on the phone," Yao said as he returned to his seat on the bed moments ago. "He's blaming you."

"Blaming me?" Ivan laughed softly when he tried to imagine how Francis faked himself on the phone. Ivan could not help but wonder if he really was a good actor. He wasn't bad in fooling Ivan when he first came here, and it also seemed he could always fool the prince so well. "That French. What did he say?"

"He said..." Yao looked as though he was trying to remember what answer he could give, but eventually he only shook his head. "Never mind. Anyway, aren't you hungry? Three days, Mr. Ivan. It's been that long."

"I could last weeks without food, Your Highness," Ivan answered, suddenly remembering the hardships he had suffered in his childhood. "I am fine. Maybe I will just take my leave and—"

"What? No, Ivan," Yao interrupted. Ivan noted how the prince suddenly changed and even dropped the 'Mr.' when calling him. The comfortable smile on the former's lips was immediately replaced with worry, and probably even with disapproval.

"Your Highness?"

"You will stay here," Yao said, insistence emphasized. "You're going to let your wound heal and you're not going to move around; my doctor clearly stated that you shouldn't. I won't let you go anywhere."

_How I wish I could tell you I have suffered worse,_ Ivan silently thought, but he did make sure the said thought would not surface. He simply sighed as if to surrender from the conversation, nodded, and waited for what Yao had to say. The latter was obviously pleased with those actions.

"Good," he exhaled. "I owe you my life now, Ivan. At least let me take care of you."

"But I do not need—"

"Ivan," Yao cut off. "I insist."

Ivan nodded once more, this time really giving up and letting the prince take the win.

"Father does not mind that you stay here," Yao continued. Obviously, the idea he brought caught Ivan's attention. "He said he also wanted to see you some time, but I told him that he would just be a bother... I hate him."

"You still cannot let go of that?" Ivan asked with an amused grin on his face.

"I have reasons," Yao replied defensively. "With what he did yesterday, he's implying he doesn't trust you even if you already saved me."

_Intelligent choice not to trust me,_ Ivan thought but voiced out something different. "What did he do?"

"Tightened the security."

"Oh. That is normal, Your Highness."

"No. It's cold-hearted. And stupid."

Ivan froze. Just like the last day he was not here, he could remember two voices whispering to him, reasoning with him, telling him options of what to do. Today, they were saying something else, and they were not directed to him.

_YOU are stupid, _one voice said. _Ignorant, naïve, foolish... You shall be mine in no time._

_I cannot let that happen, _the other voice argued. _Yao is simply kind and innocent._

_HE IS A PREY TO KILL!_

_He does not deserve to suffer for his father's guilt._

_I WILL KILL HIM._

I shall save him.

_HE IS NOTHING BUT A TARGET._

_A reflection!_

_OF WHAT!?_

_Our past, Russian._

Ivan's past, yes. How Yao reflected it, there were many ways how. The naïveté reminded Ivan his own— how he planted hatred on cruel people but easily trusted Aleksandr who never even had a valid reason why he cared for him and his sisters. Ever since, Ivan had suspected that Aleksandr had his own benefits in adopting them, but he did not care as long as the said man showed kindness to him. That kindness, Ivan could see in Yao. And Yao's innocence was nothing more than a reminder of his sisters'.

"...van? Ivan? Are you still there?"

The prince's voice slowly became more and more noticeable to Ivan and eventually managed to snap him out of his thoughts.

"Your Highness?" Ivan muttered.

"Hey, you're still calling me that."

"Why not? You _are_ royalty."

"I'm calling you 'Ivan' now. Won't you return the favor and call be by my first name, too?"

"I am pretty sure your father and your brother will not be pleased to hear me call you that."

"But I'm not pleased of the fact that you're so formal with me."

Ivan paused to think, and perhaps also to observe the prince's face. It was rather charming. The prince's young age was very evident in those beautiful dark eyes, that smooth skin, and those thin but rosy lips. If Ivan were not a hired assassin, he'd probably take a liking to the prince... Actually, perhaps now he was already taking a liking to him. But Ivan was just not the kind of man who entertains such feelings. He knew how to keep such emotions out. One side of him insisted to concentrate more on Sadik's request for him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh... um..." Ivan sighed. "I was just thinking... maybe I will call you by your first name."

He watched as the prince's face lit up into probably its happiest state. _Charming, indeed,_ he told himself. "You will?"

"But only if there are no other people."

Yao's eyes widened all of a sudden. He seemed struck, though Ivan had not an idea why or what caused it. Also, if the Russian could see right, the said royalty's face was suddenly flaring up, but Ivan gave the benefit of the doubt and blamed the lights. Analyzations were cut off by three knocks on the door, however, and both their attentions were caught.

"Uh... um... Come in, who is it?"

The door opened, revealing a servant of the palace with a tray of food, who was followed immediately by Kiku. The man was not smiling, to Yao's confusion.

"Kiku?"

"I just wanted to know how our guest is feeling," the Japanese man said as he turned to Ivan. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, I could say," Ivan replied. "Thank you for tending to my injury."

"You saved my brother," Kiku said. "It's just proper to... give you back the favor. Besides, Yao insisted."

Kiku and the servant left immediately, leaving Yao and Ivan alone again. Just as they left, Ivan addressed the food on the nearby table and asked, "Is that supposed to be...?"

"Yours? Yes," Yao immediately answered.

"I am not used to eating in bed."

"Neither am I, honestly," Yao said with a smile but brought a small cup nearer anyway. "But you cannot move yet. Your wound might open if you leave bed so I thought it'll be better if you eat here."

"But Your Highness—"

"Ivan. We're alone. What about what we just talked about?"

"Yao, then..." Ivan paused, feeling the prince's name linger in his tongue in a very weird way. It never did that before. "...I..." And strangely he forgot what he was about to say because of it. "Never mind."

"Here you go, then," Yao offered the cup he was holding. "Start with this."

Ivan took it and asked, "Tea?"

"Yes," the prince answered. "It'll help your injury heal faster."

Ivan took the cup and tried a sip. He lowered it right after though, realizing how bad it tasted.

"Ugh... what the hell?"

"You don't like it?" Yao asked. Though sincere and concerned, it was obvious that he was trying his hardest not to laugh at that reaction. "Maybe you're just not used to it."

"It tastes awful," Ivan complained, all the more making Yao laugh. "What is in it?"

"Not really familiar with the specific ingredients, but I'm quite sure they're just herbs."

Ivan made a protesting face but he decided to just drink it up anyway. He made it quick, so to avoid picking up the flavor. At least the second try did not taste as bad as the first. His movements did not cause pain, but his last gulp did. Another series of painful coughing burst out just after the liquid flowed down his esophagus.

Yao was quick to ease the coughing but in spite of this, Ivan did not feel any better. What was worse was that the coughing seemed to have made Ivan's injury bleed again.

"Oh no..." Yao muttered when he saw the blood slowly disperse through the bandages.

Ivan looked down his torso as well, and seeing how it bled, he knew the prince would worry. So he smiled up to the royalty and lied, "It is not painful, Yao. Besides, I do not think my organs are in danger."

"Don't say that. That's not the point. I'll call the doctor."

Without another word, Yao rushed out of the room, leaving Ivan alone. The Russian tried his best to shut the pain out, closed his eyes with the hopes that if he falls asleep he wouldn't feel a thing. Rather than just falling asleep though, he fell entirely unconscious instead. When Yao returned with the doctor, he was already pale— paler than usual, that is— and most of the bandage covering his chest was already covered with blood. He became stable again when the doctor finished with him, but a bag of blood had to be needled to his arm for a few hours to replace the blood lost. He did not gain back his consciousness until midnight. When he did, the lights were already out but the prince was still there, wide-awake.

"Your Highness..."

"Ivan, haven't I asked you not to call me that?" the prince said, his voice shaky and... weak. If Ivan were to guess, he'd say the prince was in the brink of crying, or already was. Of what, of nervousness, he supposed.

"Why are you still awake?" Ivan asked, ignoring Yao's question; reaching out to touch the said man's face. It was wet. "Are you crying?"

"I know I shouldn't be," Yao answered as he removed Ivan's hands from his face and wiped it with his own. "But I was just too worried. I couldn't help myself... sorry."

Ivan smiled fondly at this. The whole room was unlit, but he could almost see that Yao had a panicked expression in his face, one that was slowly calming down now that Ivan was awake. "You should be sleeping. What time is it?"

"Almost midnight," Yao answered honestly. "I just couldn't leave you, Ivan. If I did, I'd be eaten by my guilt by now."

"But you did not have to worry so much."

"I couldn't not worry," Yao said. "You're suffering because of me..."

"No, it is because a sniper tried to kill you. I blame him," Ivan butted. "So please stop torturing yourself."

"How kind of you not to blame me instead," Yao said with a sigh. "But I'm still sorry."

"If I accept that apology, would you stop?"

In the middle of the darkness Ivan sensed Yao's figure shift uncomfortably but move closer, before finally earning a nod and a soft "Okay." Ivan then said that he has finally forgiven whatever the royalty felt guilty for, and that that was to be the end of this certain topic of conversation.

"Would you like me to turn the lights on?" Yao asked, ably changing the topic. "And by the way, are you hungry now?" He went to turn on the lights before going back beside the Russian.

"I am not sure I would want to eat anytime soon anyway, Your Highness—"

"_Yao,_" the prince corrected.

"I am not sure I would want to eat anytime soon," Ivan repeated simply.

"Why not?" Yao asked.

"You must be forgetting that I have almost bled to death a few hours ago, Yao," Ivan answered, this time finally using the prince's first name. "What would make us so sure that it will not happen again?"

"The doctor made sure it won't happen again. I guarantee you it won't."

"I am not hungry. I would feel better if you would just leave me be and go to sleep."

"I already told you, I can't do that."

"Then please just get some sleep. I can—"

"Give the bed to me?" Yao interrupted. "You're injured. I can't let that happen."

"Then could I offer for us to share?"

That had made the prince stare at Ivan, his right brow slightly raised. Ivan also noted how the said man's cheeks also slowly turned redder and redder, which was simply amusing. Yao was obviously still young. Seven years too young for his kind of maturity, he thought.

"I... I might make y-your wound bleed again if we... we do that," Yao said, stuttering.

Ivan's lips curved into an amused smile, seeing the obvious fact from the prince's face that he was actually welcoming the idea enough. He was just shy.

"I insist, Yao."

"No. I'll go to sleep later, I promise," Yao said. "But I'll make sure first that you sleep again."

"To be honest, I hate being bedridden."

Both fell silent as the slumber started to force itself in the room, on Yao and Ivan, but that silence was disturbed when the latter spoke.

"Yao?"

"What is it?" the royalty asked.

"How long have you deprived yourself of sleep?"

The prince laughed sheepishly. "Didn't really get to sleep during those entire three days."

"Then you should tonight."

"Ivan," Yao called suddenly.

"What is it?"

"What do you think of me?"

Ivan felt a smile form in his lips. "What do I think of you?" he asked before he hummed thoughtfully. "Kind, sweet, caring. You have proved those to me during these last few days. I have known you."

"Thank you."

It only took a few minutes before Ivan could feel himself drowning in sleepiness again. But just before he could entirely fall, suddenly, very, very suddenly, something warm grazed his cheeks...

* * *

_To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'm really sorry for delaying this! I mean... it's been stuck with me for a month now, but unfortunately I wasn't able to proof it immediately. I haven't proofed it to perfection as well so... please bear with typos and all if there are any... Also for those who are waiting for the action, I'm really trying to inject more of it... but we'll still have to see if it works. :D_

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Chapter 5.

It only took a few echoes of dewdrop from outside the windows to rouse Ivan to full consciousness. Darkness greeted him as he opened his eyes, silence continued to fill his ears with only a few sounds to disrupt every now and then. There was not a single light, the Russian's surroundings was pitch-black. But honestly, he did not mind. Somehow, the silence felt peaceful, and the darkness felt like a blanket around him... What he did mind though, was that he was awake for too long and after a while, minutes or hours, whichever, he already hated the fact that he was alone and he could not do anything. True, his wound was not painful anymore, but Ivan knew that one wrong movement of his body might make it bleed. And that was why he could not move. Not that the injury was fatal, but the bullet did pass through him, and even though moving would not hurt, bleeding to death was still dangerous, and messy. Ivan knew that if he would want to finish what he came here for, he had to avoid just that.

Thankfully, the Russian's agony was put to an end as the door opened, and closed, and the lights were turned on and he saw the prince standing a few steps away. He was able to watch as Yao's face showed struggle as he tried to keep his movements silent before the expression turned shocked at seeing him awake, before it changed again, lastly to apologetic. Ivan could not keep himself from laughing, but he made sure to laugh softly so there would not be any pressure on his chest. "Good morning, Yao," he greeted.

"Good morning," the prince greeted back before pacing to the bed. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?"

"Have been awake for hours now, to be honest," Ivan said with a casual smile. Somehow despite everything, there was this feeling inside him, feeling that made him smile like that, of lightness or glee or something similar and obviously something he should not be feeling. He realized he has felt this since he woke up, but he only managed to notice now. But what was the reason, he did not know yet.

"Hmm," Yao hummed, disrupting Ivan's thoughts. "Can you move?"

"Of course I can," Ivan answered. "I just choose not to because I fear I might bleed to death if I will not be careful."

The prince nodded at that. "I can assist you if you let me," he said.

"You do not have to," was Ivan's answer, though. "I honestly do not need assistance... And besides, it is not a prince's duty to do that, right?"

But the prince scowled, and Ivan thought it was even cuter than the last time. By now, he had to wonder if protesting and getting away with what he wanted was the prince's specialty. It seemed impossible to say no to him anymore, whatever he'll say next, only because of that cute scowl on his face. "If I want to do things on my own then I'd do them on my own."

"So you want to 'assist' me?" Ivan said instead, then.

"Why not?"

Yao immediately walked even closer to Ivan after that. He offered a hand, and Ivan took it, slowly, but without hesitance. Yao helped him out of the bed, careful and mindful of the sensitive injury, and walked him to the bathroom a door away to the right, after Ivan told him he wanted to take a shower immediately. They both entered, and Yao helped Ivan remove the bandages. The easy expression on the prince's face immediately faded as he saw the wound, though. It wasn't big, it wasn't ugly, it wasn't even fatal, but he knew it was his fault.

"I feel guilty all over again," he muttered. He thought that if he didn't, his heart would explode.

"I ended that topic yesterday," Ivan said with a reassuring smile, and an insistent tone that meant to make sure the prince will already stop torturing himself for it. But the Russian had to pause for a second to think. Why did it feel wrong to upset the prince? And strangely, why would his chest constrict painfully every time he was reminded that he was here to kill the prince, not to befriend him? He knew, the closer he'd become with the prince, the easier it would be to end this mission... but it was also tougher to accomplish, and he was also now more uncertain if he really should keep on with this matter.

"Yao," he voiced mainly so to snap himself out of his own thoughts.

"What is it?" was the prince's reply.

"Thank you for helping me, but I can move on my own from here," Ivan said, somehow making the prince's face turn pinkish. It was cute, especially because he knew what really caused that reaction.

"Call me if you need anything then," Yao said before pacing to the door, and then stopped and turned as he remembered something. "I forgot to hand you your clothes. Please wait a moment before you take a bath, yes?" And then he hurriedly left, and returned just as fast, already with the clothes he had mentioned. Ivan took them when they were handed to him, and inspected them curiously. The white pants and black shirt seemed to fit him well, but of course he would not really know without trying them on. But that would be after he takes that shower he's been wanting.

"Thank you," he said, earning a nod and a beautiful smile before the prince left. He stood there for a few seconds before he realized he had to remind himself that he should stop being amused and charmed by the prince all the time. But to be honest, he did not know how to stop. So settling with those thoughts, he shook his head, as if that could make him forget, and finally took a shower.

After everything, Ivan wore the clothes given to him, except the shirt. He'd have to patch his injury up first, for safety, before putting it on. Unfortunately the bathroom seemed to be lacking what he needed so he had to go out to the bedroom to search. Thankfully, Yao was still there, standing against a wall.

"Need anything else?" Yao asked with a smile the moment he saw Ivan. Ivan smiled back sheepishly.

"I need some bandages," he said. "I was just going to look for some."

"Oh there's no need," Yao told him before pacing towards a cabinet in a corner and showed Ivan that the bandages, and other medical materials, were there. "Let me help you."

"I will honestly be more confident if your doctor would be the one to 'help' me," Ivan could not help but say with an amused laugh. As a result, he earned yet another scowl from the prince.

"What does that suppose to mean?"

"It does not mean anything," Ivan said. "But... would you know how to do it?"

"Of course I'd know," Yao answered as he took a container full of cotton balls, a bottle of antiseptic, some gauze and sticking plasters, a roll of clean bandages, and of course a few bandage clips. "Sit on the bed and just let me."

Ivan only nodded and obediently did what he was told.

Yao followed suit with all the materials from the cabinet. He placed those materials on the bedside table before taking a single cotton ball and putting a few drops of antiseptic on it. "Let me clean your wound first?"

Ivan only sighed and nodded. He knew for one thing that he didn't have a choice anyway.

So Yao cleaned Ivan's injury as they both let the silence fill in. To Ivan, the silence was both comforting and unbearable, unfortunately. It made him feel so confused and suffocated, especially because Yao was so near, just a few inches away and was even closer than 'in reach'. But that was also the very reason why half of him felt so peaceful. And so as he realized this, he had to make sure Yao would not notice his raising pulse against his hands— but that seemed impossible. The injury was very close to his heart, and the heartbeats were just too powerful to take no notice of.

"Is something wrong?" Yao asked. The prince refused to look at Ivan, only focusing on cleaning the wound on the latter's chest slowly and carefully. After that he went behind the Russian to clean the other end of the injury there.

"Nothing," Ivan only mumbled to answer before he attempted to lessen the force of his raging heartbeats by breathing in deeply. He sensed Yao nod behind him before the prince took the gauzes and plasters to cover the bullet hole on his back, and afterwards the one on his chest. Once finished, Yao securely wrapped the bandages around his upper torso and lastly locked them using the clips.

"Done," he said with a jubilant and relieved smile as he finally eased himself on the bed. "Told you I know how to patch it up."

"Yes..." Ivan muttered. Somehow, the longer they just sat in front of each other, the stronger his pulse even raged. It was so smothering; if Ivan would not do anything soon, he knew he would black out. But what was happening in the first place?

It was as if a spark suddenly set all of Ivan afire. The fire spread through his veins quickly as he grasped what was, indeed, happening, and he could only panic inwardly as he felt something soft and warm against his own lips. He could feel Yao's discomfort as they kissed, but he also felt the way the prince relaxed more and more and just accepted what he gave. Yao's hands were safely on Ivan's chest, holding him back half-heartedly, but as they slowly fell down on the soft four-poster both also just gave in. Their lips moved slowly with one another, their hot breaths mixing in between. And for a moment, every logical reasoning just vanished.

Ivan let his left arm hold Yao's waist under him, earning a soft pleasured cry from the prince as their hips crushed. The latter's hands traveled to wrap themselves on Ivan's neck before one went to tangle itself with his silky silver hair. Another moan came out from Yao as Ivan tried to deepen their kiss by letting their tongues dance and entwine. But just before they could fall into the deep pit of desire Ivan felt himself being pushed away slowly.

"Ivan..." the prince breathed after needy puffs of air. "We... we can't."

But that only made the Russian smirk because, obviously, Yao wanted him just as much as he did. "You pushed me away not because you wanted to, right?"

The prince's flushed face pinked even more as his brows wrinkled and as he averted Ivan's gaze sheepishly. That was enough for an answer. But Yao said anyway, "My efforts with your injury might get wasted if we continue."

"True," Ivan agreed with his smirk now toned down to a smile. "Yao, please answer me with this, though... Last night... was that a kiss?"

Yao answered with another. A swift one, but he did not say anything about it. He immediately stood up and took the black shirt and handed it to Ivan. "Wear that already. Afterwards, let's have our breakfast. You haven't eaten yet." But the way he tried to evade the previous topic only made Ivan even more... wanting. Yao was beautiful, he told himself, and such beauty was something, someone, he wanted to his own. So he's decided...

After all of that, Ivan and Yao had to pass by many hallways to reach the dining room. Not much people were up, but there were a few, and each one bowed and greeted as the prince passed. There was only this one person that didn't— he simply tilted his head down a bit to acknowledge Yao, but he did not say a word or even stop or slow down with his walking. For a moment Ivan felt a dangerous atmosphere surround the man especially as their arms almost grazed. The Russian could not help but glance behind him as the man walked past them. That man did the same thing, and unexpectedly their gazes met. Both had threatening looks in their eyes.

Ivan realized that he and the prince had stopped walking, only after the dangerous-looking man disappeared. His eyes did not move, not until Yao caught his attention by asking, "What's wrong?" as if nothing happened just a while ago.

"Who was that?" Ivan asked back as he turned around and started walking with the prince again.

"You mean Mongolia?" Yao asked. "He's my brother's right-hand. Aside from that he's pure mystery. I just met him a few days ago, too... and he's a bit too scary if you ask me."

Mongolia, Ivan thought with a hum. "Why is he scary?" he asked despite somewhat knowing what the prince meant.

"His eyes are always frightening and threatening, as if he's full of want to... kill. I don't really know, I'm probably just too judgmental, but he's really suspicious. Apparently my brother is the only person he trusts... if he even trusts Kiku."

"Why 'Mongolia', if I may ask?"

"Kiku only mentioned he's from that country. But aside from that the reason behind it is out of my knowledge, if there is anything else."

Ivan only nodded as he thought about it. Surely it would be helpful if he found out who 'Mongolia' really was.

...

Ivan watched as Francis asked permission from Yao to talk privately with the former. True, at first there was the delight on the French's face at seeing them on his doorstep, but that delight faded just as fast as the concern and the need to talk in private now surfaced. Yao, of course, simply said yes and Francis pulled Ivan out of the room and into somewhere the prince won't hear them.

"That was reckless," he hissed immediately. But Ivan only shrugged and nonchalantly raised both hands as if to surrender, his easy smile never leaving his pale lips.

"You did not stop me before, did you?" Ivan asked.

"That's not the point, Ivan." Thankfully, slowly, Francis started to calm down. He exhaled heavily. "Look what's happened to you. You have a hole on your chest."

"What could I have done then, Francis?"

"You could have just let it happen."

"And let the prince die?"

"Isn't that what you're here for in the first place? To kill the prince?"

True, that was why he was here, but Ivan was decided now that that wasn't his plan anymore. The smile disappeared. And what replaced it was a glower other people wish they'd never see. And in just a flash, Francis could only stare wide-eyed as he felt the Russian's big strong hand slowly crush his throat.

"I-Ivan...?" He fought to catch his breath as the grip even tightened.

"Not another word, Francis," Ivan growled. "We both know the answer to that, but I cannot risk Yao to hear it."

There was a moment of silence, silence that made Ivan realize he has not let go of Francis yet. So he did once he remembered, and heaved a heavy sigh. "Where is Matthew?"

"I'm here," the Canadian's voice rang from the stairs two doors away just before pacing nearer. "It's good to see you up, Ivan... but you know you didn't have to shield the prince with your body in the first place."

"Do you have my communicator?" Ivan asked to change the topic immediately.

"Yes," answered Matthew. "Fortunately I was able to get it."

"And the other sniper?"

"Just another hit man," Francis replied this time, although he was still a bit choking. "Worry not. Mathieu and I took care of him. Not a trace."

And that was the end of it. Ivan refused to hear more, so immediately he went back to the sitting room just to find Yao standing alone in the center, deep in thought.

"Yao?" Ivan called, but that pretty much did not do anything. So he tried again, this time making his voice louder. "Yao." And that called the prince's attention.

"Ivan," the royalty called back as he faced him, the worry in his eyes refusing to vanish. "Are they... are they blaming... me?"

"No," Ivan answered immediately as he walked towards the other. "You're not to be blamed."

"But—"

Yao was cut off as Ivan pressed their lips together once again. Somehow he just wanted to do that, and seeing that he had to stop the prince from talking anyway he mused it was a good timing to do it now. There was no fighting back, or holding back, or pushing away, or discomfort anymore. Yao was entirely calm with the kiss and so was Ivan. But they both knew they had to make sure no one sees them so they also parted immediately.

"Please, Yao. It is frustrating to talk about it," Ivan said, referring to the sniper incident.

"Um... okay..."

Then came a loud crashing noise from downstairs. Ivan guessed it was Francis' two weird friends, and for the first time and probably the last, he was thankful that a loud Gilbert was there to make a distraction so the irritating concern would just disappear.

"We should probably check what happened."

Everyone went down to see what was up with Gilbert and Antonio. Ivan, suddenly losing interest, said his goodbye to Francis, Matthew, and the other two, and hurriedly went out of the building with the prince. He was more than thankful that was finally over.

"We should not have visited."

"Why not?" Yao asked with a calm beam formed by his lips.

Ivan did not answer. Instead he said, "You should probably go back to the palace."

Yao nodded slowly but with obvious hesitance. "I'm not going back without you, though. You will come with me, right?"

Ivan froze for a second before he let himself look at Yao. "Honestly, I was not planning to go back."

"What?" came Yao's panicked reaction.

"I think I am becoming a burden. That is all. I wanted to go back to my apartment already, too," Ivan explained. "But I guess I shall accompany you nonetheless... I do not want to see you sad."

"Oh, not that—"

Ivan pointed at his apartment, which was just on the other side of the street. "It would not be troublesome. I could go back on my own." Ivan noticed the prince's stare at the building. It was far and wondering, and curious. "What is it?"

"Will you mind if I see how it is inside?"

A pair of violet eyes widened in panic. The apartment, truth to be told, has not been touched for three days and surely all his secrets were scattered all over the place. No, the prince still cannot. "Maybe some other time, Yao. I do not think I can let you see it in its current state."

It was a serious topic but Ivan found the prince laughing, and nodding, and apparently understanding what Ivan tried to mean. "Okay," he said. "How about tomorrow then?"

"Does that mean it is okay that I do not stay in the palace anymore?"

Yao nodded. "It's okay that you don't go with me to the palace anymore as well. You should rest, at least in your apartment if you're uncomfortable in the palace. Could I drop by tomorrow?"

"I would not mind," Ivan answered.

"I shall see you tomorrow then. Please Ivan, take care of yourself."

_To be continued..._

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_Just something I want to add, my friend Wrenne (she changed her penname which was Arcane Arcana before), wrote a tie-in about Mongolia entitled, PULSE. I just want to include this here for those who are interested and those who can't find it. I won't be giving too much details about Mongolia because that's Wrenne's task. _(^-^)


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